


When the dust settles

by inqwex



Category: City Homicide (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2020-10-04 09:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inqwex/pseuds/inqwex
Summary: Or how Jennifer Mapplethorpe picked Nick Buchanan over her career, surprising everyone in the process (including Nick Buchanan).





	1. Jennifer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The City Homicide fandom exists?! I've had this fic half-written for *years* in my head, and have nearly written it up and put it out into the aether regardless so many times. I hope you guys like it.

Despite what she knew other people would think and say, this was not an impulsive decision.

It was something Jennifer Mapplethorpe had been - in some way or other - thinking about for years. Over four long, lonely years.

After all, she'd fallen in love with Nick when he had still been Wesley and she had been his fake-wife; instinctively drawn to him in a way that couldn't be explained just by the enclosed pressure cooker of their situation undercover. 

Jen had dated other people since they'd been undercover, but hadn't found anyone that met her requirements. She wanted someone steady, and kind, and clean where she was messy and calm where she was anxious, who left the cricket on all weekend to filter through the house while he did odd jobs. She wanted someone with big, gentle hands, a serious expression, but who had the most infectious grin she'd ever seen.

And on meeting the real Nick, years later, she'd been glad to find out that the kindness, humour, and easy-going nature that Wesley had was all Nick. And gladder still to find that Wesley's laddishness out with the men and terrible taste in shirts were not Nick's traits. The real Nick was quiet outside of work, preferring to drop sharp, witty comments over his beer. He and Dunny would share amused glances, but his teasing of Allie was kinder than Dunny's (something that Jen suspected Allie both appreciated and hated). He was patient but firm with Rhys, and indulged Matt's moods just enough to be supportive without being overly tolerant.

During the time they worked together, before a hail of bullets in an innocent family had thrust them back into the world of SIS, she'd thought about it. Thought about him, about how she wanted more than to sit next to him at work. Jen wanted to wake up next to him too. They'd slipped easily into back into best-friendship; and the feelings that Trish had had for Wesley turned into much deeper feelings that Jennifer had for Nick.

She'd thought about it so much when they were together it had been what had scared her away. She'd never needed - or wanted to need - anyone before; and Nick was fast becoming so integral to her life that it felt dangerous. Being with him would hurt her career, and if it fell apart she'd be left without Nick and without a career. She'd be nobody. So she cut him off before it would hurt too much [except that was a lie, it hurt like nothing she'd ever felt].

And then when they were apart his words from that conversation in her car had continued to rattle around her head. _'Let's get married,_' he'd said, as if it were that simple.

* * *

The first night after finding him in the boot of Dane Major's car trussed like a pig for slaughter Jen drove him home. She didn't stay, and Nick didn't ask her to.

Then he spent a whole day locked in a room with Ethical Standards while their department disintegrated around them. Hope had sprung into his eyes when she'd told him to avoid Fraud, but then he'd looked wary and dodged her for the rest of the day. That night, she dropped by uninvited straight after work with his favourite Indian order and a tub of ice-cream. 

"Hi," she said, when he opened the door. His face was still badly bruised, and he looked exhausted still, but gave her the soft smile she loved so much.

"Hi," he replied.

"Dinner?"

Nick's smile turned a little crooked, and he gestured for her to come in, closing the door firmly behind her. He took the ice cream and curry off her hands, limping down the hallway. By the time she'd toed her shoes off and joined him in the kitchen the ice cream was stowed safely in the freezer and he'd already started serving the rice and curry onto plates.

They sat in silence around his dining table, Jen wincing a little at how Nick tried to pretend he wasn't desperately shoving down food. She waited until he was into his second serve before she spoke.

"I owe you an apology," she said suddenly, fastidiously squaring off a little bite of chicken, looking back up to meet his eyes. Nick swallowed deliberately, and set his fork down. 

"For what?"

"For not -" she sighed. "Not discussing my thoughts about our relationship with you. I feel I kind of ... made the decision for us that we would focus on our careers." Nick's eyes were dark and wary, and he said nothing. "I... I got scared. So I ran away. But that was deeply unfair to you. I'm sorry."

His eyes were still guarded and he offered her a lopsided smile that looked more like a grimace. "I never wanted you to feel trapped," he said carefully.

"We hadn't been dating long but this is the most important ..." she began, before shaking her head in frustration, reaching across the table to touch the back of his hand. "Nick. You're the most important person to me. You're my work partner, my best friend, and ... and the man I'm in love with. And I didn't...didn't give us time to have the discussion we should have had."

He flipped his hand over under hers, slowly twisting their fingers together.

"I'd have left," he said simply. "I love the cases, but I love _you_ more. And I'm not the kind of person who's going to climb the ranks - I thought I'd aim for sergeant as a retirement gig." His words were a little bitter; they were both acutely aware that any prospect of a sergeant position - at any point in his career - had more or less evaporated.

"I said we didn't need to talk about Juliette Gardner," she was more abrupt than she meant to be, and she felt his hand still beneath hers and move to pull away. "I - you know, it wasn't the time then and I was still working out - but it's made me realise that I can't watch you be with someone else." Jen forced herself to meet his eyes, squeezing his hand. "At the time I knew I was being selfish for wanting you and wanting the job and then while I was...when I thought you were - when you were missing I realised that I might want the job but I'd rather have you and I'd have regretted not being with you every second of my life if you had died. And when they announced Homicide was being disbanded, I was relieved because it meant that we could be together easily."

Nick looked a little uncertain, hope warring with concern.

"Jen -" he breathed, but she wasn't done.

"I love you, Nicholas Buchanan. I want to be with you. If you'll have me."

His hand tightened around hers almost painfully.

"I'm on corruption charges," he said, sounding defeated. "Jen, it's not just a matter of the gossip anymore. That corruption charge will dog you and your career too regardless if I get cleared."

"I know," Jen replied evenly.

"I don't want to hold you back. I don't want you to resent me," he said.

"And I don't want to spend the rest of my life regretting not trying to be with you," Jen said, more sharply than she intended.

Nick's eyes softened, and he leaned forward over the table, hesitating just shy of her lips. Jen rolled her eyes and leant into the kiss, brushing her lips softly against his. He smiled against her lips, and they exchanged a handful of slow, lingering, sweet kisses before he pulled back. Jen could feel her cheeks were hot, and she suspected that the dopey grin on his face was a match to the smile she wore.

Kissing him was like coming home; his smell comforting, his lips familiar and practiced against hers.

There was no rush, and so they returned to their meal. They'd always been able to make conversation, and it flowed effortlessly now. When they were done, Nick took their plates into the kitchen, rinsing them and placing them in the dish drainer while Jen served two generous bowls of ice-cream. 

They fell naturally back together, curled up on the couch, eating ice cream as the TV played MasterChef in the background. The steady ache that had been Nick's absence from this aspect of her life was filled with warmth, relieved and grateful that it felt like they'd never been apart.

_"I've never made this before ..."_ said one of the contestants, and Nick's snort rumbled through his chest. 

"_That's_ definitely a good idea," he said dryly, like he always had when someone on that show had made a stupid comment like that. Jen simply edged closer, nuzzling into his shoulder.

They watched companionably, each intermittently making sardonic remarks at the contestants, and feeling some of the stress of the last few weeks drift away. During the next ad break, she felt Nick drop a tentative kiss to the top of her head, so naturally, she tilted her head up.

"I love you," he said quietly, taking her breath away with the intense fondness in his gaze. Jen reached a hand to his clean-shaven cheek, and kissed him.

It was nice to kiss him again, to let their mouths reacquaint themselves with each other, to twist her tongue against his and make him groan lowly. His kiss was slow, full of promise, and he shifted to rest back against the side of the couch, pulling her to lie on top of him. She let her fingertips trace across his bruised eye, down his chest, while his hands set up residence on her butt with a gentle squeeze.

Jen wasn't sure how long they made out, but eventually she pulled away, smugly noting the dazed look in his eyes.

"Ask me to stay tonight, Nick," she said quietly, stroking his chest.

"Stay forever," he returned, brushing her hair back. Jen smiled at him and kissed him again. If this were a book, or a movie, or a tv show rather than real life, at this point he would have carried her to his bedroom as they passionately stripped each other's clothes off.

But it was a warm, humid, late-spring evening in Melbourne and he'd been held hostage and beaten to a pulp only days earlier. So she rolled off him, picking up their abandoned bowels and spoons. He sat with a groan, and switched the TV off, leaning against the kitchen counter as she rinsed the bowels and left them in the sink. She took his hand, and let him lead her to his room, grabbing her handbag on the way.

Instead of the usual green sheets on the bed, he had dark brown sheets. He spotted her raised eyebrow as she put her handbag on 'her' bedside table.

"It was time for new sheets," he said quietly, with an odd sort of grimace. Jen didn't bother to say anything, simply stepped forward and kissed him. Strangely, seeing the new sheets made her even surer that had she not pushed him away, he would never have looked twice at Juliette.

His return kiss was tinged with desperation, and she leaned into him as he pulled her to the bed. Clothes fell away and she gently traced over the multiple bruises which were spectacularly purple and green - that marred his chest.

Afterwards, despite the warmth of the night, she snuggled onto his chest, taking in his comforting smell.

"I missed you," he said, arm tightening around her waist. "You were sitting right next to me and I missed you."

She wormed her way up to rest her head on his pillow next to him. He turned to look at her, pulling back a little so that their faces could be in focus.

"Let's get married, Nick," Jen said softly. His jaw fell open and he stared at her like she was mad.

She'd never felt more sure of anything.

"As of today, I don't have a job in homicide and I thought that would feel like the end of the world. But I have a job in fraud, and I feel fine. Sad, disappointed, but fine. When you were ..." her breath caught, but she forced herself to continue. "When you were gone, it _did_ feel like the end of my world."

Jen watched him swallow hard.

"I love you," he said, the quiet fierceness in his tone sending a tingle down her spine. "I'm all in, if you're sure." Jen kissed him, and sat up, heedless of her lack of clothing. Her heart thudded almost painfully in her chest as she fumbled through her handbag on the table next to her.

"I'm sure," she said, setting the ring box between them in the bed. Picking the ring had been easy - Nick was a traditional guy [but, she'd thought with quiet conviction, not so traditional that he'd object]. Nick's eyes went wide as he took in the simple gold men's wedding ring. "Will you marry me?"

She'd thought hard about whether this was just repeating past mistakes, of making decisions for him about his priorities. But she knew Nick was wary, and guarded, had felt his longing and uncertainty in the way he touched her. The confidence with which he had always held her had evaporated.

Jen watched him anxiously as the surprise faded from his face, and he looked past the ring to her, sitting up against the headboard of his bed. She hoped she saw this for what it was - her way of proving she wasn't going to leave.

Because he had been right. It was that simple.

"Jennifer," he said in that slow, careful way he had. "Are you _sure_?"

She quirked a smile. "I've never wanted that with anyone before but I want that with you," she parroted his words from the car back at him, pausing before adding, "I'm not ready for kids, not yet, and I can't guarantee -"

"I meant it when I said we could decide in the future," he interrupted. "I want _you_. And if you decide you want kids I will be your house husband. My career will go nowhere, so you don't have to feel guilty or ask me, I'll do it. If you want kids. If you don't that's okay."

Jen nodded, hoping her gratitude for him showed in the way she reached out to squeeze his hand.

"If we do all this," he nodded towards the as yet untouched ring box between them, "and split up in two years?"

"I don't think we will," she replied quietly. "And it's worth the risk, don't you think?"

His eyes were full of unshed tears and he twisted away to open the drawer in his bedside table, and her breath caught as he pulled out a ringbox, opening it to reveal a simple but elegant gold ring with a small single diamond.

"Then yes, I will marry you, Jennifer Mapplethorpe," he said quietly, reaching out to brush her cheek. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes," she said, staring at the ring. It was...exactly right. "Nick when -?"

"The case of the coroner's driver," he replied. "Where we found out the morgue director had been taking children's brains to research."

"That was before we were together," Jen responded weakly. There'd been a discussion about the fifteen thousand dollar engagement ring in that case - Dunny had whistled and considered it great, Allie thought it was tacky, and Jen had commented that it was impractical. Matt had pushed her and Allie - jokingly - about engagement rings. Allie had rolled her eyes and said she'd never get married, and Jen had thrown out an off-hand comment about how engagement rings should be a sign of commitment, not fashion sense or wallet size, and that a small and traditional one always looked best.

"I hoped," Nick shrugged. "Someday. That I would be able to offer it to you and you'd take it." He grimaced a little. "Crazy and kind of creepy I know."

"Not creepy," she said thoughtfully. It was the kind of thing that should've set off red flags, but it didn't. They had too much history for it to be creepy; after all, at that point Nick may not have dated Jennifer, but Wesley had spent just over a year curled around Trish in sleep, cooking with her, cleaning the house (and grumbling about her untidiness). They'd already been married, but for the lack of physical intimacy. "I'd like to take it today."

He lifted it out of the box and slid it onto her finger before picking up the ring she'd bought him.

"You don't mind I proposed to you and bought that?" she asked quietly, watching him study the ring. He shook his head.

"Can I wear it? Just tonight?" Nick asked. "We should wait until the department's officially dissolved to tell people. And I know it's a wedding ring not an engagement ring so I should wait until we're married -"

In answer, she plucked the box out of his hand and lifted the ring out of it, reaching for his hand. 

"Let's file our notice of intent to wed tomorrow," she said, sliding the ring onto his finger. "We have to wait at least a month."

"In a rush, Mapplethorpe?" he teased.

"I'd marry you right now if I could, Buchanan," she said. "I should have months ago."

"But you have answers for your doubts now," Nick said quietly. "You're sure." His words held none of the question that they had before, and Jen felt a pang of ... love, and guilt, and gratitude at his faith in her.

Even when he disagreed with her, Nick always backed her, she could always rely on his steady presence.

She picked up the two ring boxes on the bed, placing them on the bedside table. She leant in to kiss him again, and swung her leg over him to straddle him. His hands were warm on her back as he kissed her passionately.

* * *

And then of course, there was another curveball, and Homicide re-integrated around them. Nick's smile at her was strained, and she followed him as closely as she could home. Home to where their rings sat in the drawer of his bedside table, neither willing to risk them at work just yet.

Nick let her in with a smile, the wariness in his eyes like a punch to the gut. 

"It doesn't matter anymore," she said, willing him to believe it. Because it didn't. There was a notice of intent to marry in at the registry office down the street from the station, and rings upstairs and the prospect of being back in Homicide had engendered mixed feelings of gladness and fatigue - fatigue that they were going to have to make decisions about who and when they were going to tell.

Because she was marrying him, damnit.

His kiss was full of relief.

"I can't be a secret again," she said in the car on the way to the scene. "We need to talk to Waverley."

"Agreed," Nick said. "There's no point going backwards."

"I've still got a job in Fraud."

Nick looked over sharply at her. "Don't," he said tightly. "I'll ask them to transfer me."

"That will kill whatever career you have left," she pointed out. "It's not career suicide for me to go back to Fraud." She eyed him, his hands clenched on the wheel. "Nick, this isn't a spur of the moment decision made as this whipped around on us. Before Lombardi tried to shut us down I was going to come over anyway and tell you I'd request a transfer."

He glanced over with a heavy sigh. 

"Trust me, Nick."

"I do."

Then they were at the scene and discussion of exactly _how_ and _who_ and _when_ to tell was postponed by the need to work the case.


	2. Bernice

It had been a long week, and Terry and Stanley had joined her in her office for a chat.

Well, not so much a chat as a drink, and an exchange of sighs of exhaustion. Bernice had just poured herself and Terry a small measure of scotch, while Stanley's glass was filled with his usual water when there was a knock at the door.

"So much for thinking everyone would be racing out of here," Bernice said dryly, glancing at the clock. It wasn't quite six pm yet, but she'd thought they'd be safe from even the dedicated Homicide officers who had all looked in the need of a weekend off. 

Terry rolled his eyes, and got up, opening the door.

"Maplethorpe, to what do we owe the honour?" he asked, and Bernice noticed Jennifer's eyes widen slightly as she took in the three of them in the office.

Behind her, more ominously still, stood Buchanan.

She set her glass down, a sinking feeling in her chest.

It had been hard _not_ to notice how in the aftermath of the Supomo case just how much Buchanan had fluttered around Mapplethorpe, bringing her tea and checking in on her sling, and nagging her about her painkillers. Still, Bernice had been content to just wait - they'd just been forced into an unusual situation and she trusted in their professionalism to return the dynamic to normal. And it had returned to normal in a couple of weeks, once Mapplethorpe was out of the sling and after the first case she'd worked on full active duty. 

And then it had been equally obvious how much Mapplethorpe had backed Buchanan during the whole Dane Majors debacle. Still, the younger woman had barely batted an eyelid on knowing about Buchanan's fling with a reporter and that had reassured Bernice that no matter how much Jennifer knew about where Nick kept his gun (in a safe in his room) and recognising his watch on sight that there was nothing between them that had been acted upon.

Had she been falsely reassured? Or was this the announcement that they had decided to pursue their feelings for each other - feelings that were hidden so well unless one or the other was in danger.

"We'd like a word, please, ma'am," Jennifer said after a moment. "Actually, with all of you, really."

Across the desk Stanley sighed heavily, pushing his chair back and around a little so that he could see them. Buchanan shut the door behind them.

"Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like it?" Terry grumbled, sitting on the edge of her desk. Bernice glared at him.

"Nick and I got engaged the other day," Jennifer announced without any preliminary pleasantries.

Terry choked on the sip of scotch he'd taken. Stanley pinched the bridge of his nose, and Bernice could only sigh heavily.

"We've registered our intent to get married," she continued, Buchanan silent next to her - not quite touching but close. How they always stood - a little closer than most colleagues, but with just enough distance to maintain propriety.

"How long has this been going on?" Bernice asked sharply. "Neither of you are this stupidly impulsive." And how did the journalist fit into it all?

"We started seeing each other after the Supomo case," Mapplethorpe admitted. "And...and then we broke up a few months ago. We got back together the other day."

Suddenly, a conversation late last year that she'd had with Jennifer - just before the Women in Policing ball - made _sense_. 

"By getting engaged?" Terry growled incredulously.

"It's been a long time coming," Buchanan said quietly but firmly, as if they needed reminding that they had _history_.

"And what do you expect us to say?" Bernice demanded. Jennifer flinched, and a muscle ticked in Nick's jaw.

"Well, it saves explanations when you read my request for a transfer to Fraud," Jennifer said. 

And there it was.

"Your career will take several large steps back," Terry pointed out. "And then when the two of you get - oh shit, you haven't got engaged because you're knocked up?"

"No," Nick said.

"Definitely not," Jennifer said at the same time, and the two of them exchanged a glance. "We've talked about it. Nick's got fewer job options than I do right now." Her tone was matter-of-fact, and Nick didn't flinch. "So we'd like it to be me who transfers."

"You're happy to go along with that, Buchanan?" Terry jibed. "She speaks for the two of you?"

"I'm not happy about it," Nick said honestly. "I'd rather it be me that transfers. But Jen's right, it's the most logical option."

Terry let out an unimpressed huff.

"Did anyone know about the two of you?" Stanley spoke up for the first time.

Jennifer frowned, obviously taken aback a little at the sideways question. "No, sir."

"Do we need to go back through your cases?" Stanley asked. The two of them looked confused, glancing at each other.

"Are any of them compromised by this thing?" Terry demanded impatiently, waving between them.

"No, sir."

Stanley looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"Wait outside you two," she ordered, making sure her displeasure was clear. They glanced at each other again, and nodded.

"Ma'am," they chorused, a little reluctantly, but they turned and left behind a moment of silence.

"Well, I think the fact that none of us are exactly surprised speaks volumes," Bernice said eventually.

"Young idiots," Terry muttered.

Except they weren't, exactly. Buchanan was forty, and Mapplethorpe in her mid thirties. Younger than the three of them, certainly, but that didn't mean a lot. And they weren't idiots. They were highly intelligent, and thoughtful people.

"They broke up," Stanley said abruptly. "No-one even knew they were seeing each other, then they broke up, and none of us were any the wiser."

"I know you have a soft spot for the girl," Terry said. "But it would set an unfortunate precedent."

"The dynamic didn't change," Stanley said steadily. "They were partnered on cases after they broke up. Worked well together anyway."

"None of their colleagues knew," Bernice pointed out, playing devil's advocate. "The team dynamic may change when they find out."

"I'm just saying that it would be a shame to shunt Jennifer across to Fraud," Stanley said quietly.

"We could move Buchanan," Terry said, but weakly.

Bernice wrinkled her nose. "I really don't think Buchanan's guilty of corruption," she said. "Lombardi said he only discussed it with Dalton. We'd destroy his career if we moved him - it would say that we had no confidence in him."

"Lombardi didn't clear Buchanan, and I don't think he would care to even if he could," Stanley pointed out.

"Buchanan's not the type," Terry argued. "Too...strait-laced. Unimaginative." Bernice followed his gaze as it wandered over to where the two detectives were shoulder-to-shoulder against the wall outside her office, Buchanan slouching as he often did when speaking to Mapplethorpe in deference to the difference between their heights. It had never seemed ... intimate, before, but looking at them now Bernice wondered how they'd missed that the two of them were lovers. "Imaginative enough for this, though, I suppose."

Bernice couldn't help but privately agree at the unspoken surprise that Jennifer would pick him, in this way. Put him over a career. She was ambitious and sharp, always reaching for more, devoted to the career. Nick was a good detective, an excellent one in fact, but the sort that would comfortably cruise without aiming higher, who enjoyed his weekends off, He'd do his overtime without complaint, but didn't offer more.

"Buchanan's career would never recover if we moved him after this, and that would impact Mapplethorpe's anyway, even if it shouldn't," Bernice said. "We could trial them. Move Mapplethorpe if it doesn't work."

"How long do we give them?" Stanley asked. "And who tells the rest of the team?"

"And when?" Terry added. "This whole thing stinks of impulsiveness after a near-death experience."

"You saw them look at each other," Stanley said, rolling his eyes. "If this was impulsive, they wouldn't be here."

"You're a romantic," Terry retorted.

"_Look_ at them," Stanley waved out the window again, where the couple were exchanging a laugh, Buchanan smiling at her in a rare, open way for a man who was usually so difficult to read. Mapplethorpe, on the other hand, was looking at him with a rare fondness, and the picture they made induced Terry to actually make a gagging sound.

"Oh don't be so immature," Bernice said briskly. "Let's discuss those terms with them."

Terry went to the door, and barked, "get in."

The two detectives straightened up, Mapplethorpe walking in first, and Terry shut the door behind them.

"I have to say I'm disappointed that the two of you have put your professional positions in jeopardy like this," Bernice said after a long moment of studying them. Mapplethorpe winced, looking down, while Buchanan met her gaze with a face that was carefully blank but for the twitching of his jaw. "Not to mention compromising at least this most recent case!"

"Look, it's all very romantic, after a near-death experience -" Terry began sarcastically, but to Bernice's surprise, Jennifer interrupted him.

"We're not kids," she snapped. "We know what we're doing."

"It's been a stressful few weeks," Stanley said in a more conciliatory tone. "This will have a major impact on both the current investigation into Dane Majors' death as well as your careers."

"You're asking us to wait?" Nick asked quietly.

"Pause, maybe, let the dust settle," Stanley offered, and a long moment of silence fell. Nick stiffened, face tight, and Jennifer narrowed her eyes.

"You know, I waited years to meet him," Jennifer said firmly. "And then we - I - we - waited some more for this job. I'm done waiting." Bernice wasn't sure which of them looked sceptical - Terry probably, but maybe all three of them - but clearly Jennifer felt the need to add, "the prospect of losing this job - of having to go back to Fraud - was a hell of a lot less daunting and devastating than nearly losing Nick." 

Terry and Stanley both shifted uncomfortably while Buchanan's face reddened slightly.

Bernice sighed.

"We'll trial it. If the team dynamic is disrupted, we'll transfer you out Mapplethorpe," she said firmly. "One toe out of line from either of you and we'll consider this a failed experiment, understood?"

"Ma'am," they replied, looking surprised.

"We'll leave it to the two of you to tell the squad," Stanley said. 

"Within the next month," Terry added. "I don't want this to drag on."

"Yes, sir," Nick replied. 

"Congratulations," offered Stanley. Bernice summoned a thin smile, as Jennifer smiled at her mentor.

"Thank you," Jennifer said, mostly to Wolfe.

"Get out," Terry grumbled, but good-naturedly. 

"Thank you," Nick repeated, addressing the room, before the two of them left.

Bernice immediately reached for her glass and drained it.

"That's how I feel," muttered Stanley, staring at the bottom of his glass.

"Their timing could not be worse," Terry grumbled.

"But at least we know about it now, not later," Stanley pointed out.

"How do you think the crew will react?" Terry asked.

There was a long pause before Stanley offered, "I don't know. If anyone can make it work, it's those two. They get on well with everyone."

Bernice hid her wince in her whiskey glass. "Let's hope so," she said quietly, thinking of Kingston and Rhys who might not be happy that a leniency was being afforded to Nick and Jennifer that had not been given to them.


	3. Duncan

It wasn't like they never hung out outside of work. Hell, they went for drinks all the time, and had dinner after shift not infrequently. But on their days off, they tended _not_ to hang out. And so Duncan had been somewhat surprised to receive a text from Jen, asking if he and Matt wanted to meet for breakfast.

_Si's in town_, she'd messaged. _Thought we could have breakfast? The original squad._

Simon. It was awkward, with their old mate. Jen was the one who kept in touch with him, and she'd update Duncan and Matt casually, but truthfully, Duncan had only seen him the once since he'd left.

He didn't know what Simon was up to these days, but he knew the younger man was travelling a lot - again, from Jen's updates.

"Oh, Si's over in WA," she'd say casually. "Surfing."

So it had been with a mixture of anticipation and unease that he'd agreed to meet for breakfast. He missed Si, but he also didn't quite know what to say to him.

Duncan wasn't at all surprised to find Jen had already arrived when he got to the breakfast spot (nor was he surprised that Simon and Matt weren't there yet). He was a little taken aback to see Nick lounging in a chair next to Jen.

Nick was sort of part of the original gang in that he knew Dunny and Si and Matt from before he'd transferred away from Homicide, but he hadn't been part of what Duncan thought Jen would think of as the original squad.

Then again, as it turned out, Jen had known Nick years before she'd come to Homicide, so Duncan guessed that maybe it wasn't quite so strange that the other man had been included.

"Hey, mate," Nick spotted him first, breaking off the quiet conversation he and Jen were having. He reached a hand across Jen and Duncan shook it automatically before pressing a kiss to Jen's cheek.

"Hey guys," Duncan said cheerfully, swinging in on Jen's other side. "How's it going?"

"Yeah, good Dunny," Jen said, sounding oddly nervous. Duncan looked back at her, frowning. 

"You all right?" he asked, but before Jen could answer, Matt had arrived with a huff.

"Hey, guys," he said cheerfully, before his gaze landed on Nick and he frowned. "Nick! What are you -" the question trailed off, and Duncan winced at his sergeant's - friend's - lack of tact. [Idly he wondered when he'd started to think of Matt as his sergeant, and not as his mate].

"Oh, you know, heard Si was in town and thought I'd tag along," Nick said easily, seemingly unruffled as always, but there was something not quite right in his tone. But Nick's face was bland as always, and his eyes were hidden behind his sunnies, so Duncan let it go.

The three of them ordered coffees and made idle small talk for another five or so minutes when there was the familiar _whoosh_ of noise that tended to accompany Simon Joyner wherever he went, and the younger man dropped into the chair between Matt and Duncan.

"Hey guys," Simon said, a little too loudly, and Duncan felt a little relieved to know that his old friend was nervous too.

"Hey," Duncan greeted enthuasiastically. "Good to see you mate."

"Hey Si," Matt echoed, and they exchanged handshakes. Simon leant over the table to peck Jen on the cheek, before settling back.

"You look good," Duncan said.

He did. Simon was freshly tanned, his hair longer than it had been with its customary blonde highlights catching the sun. He also looked relaxed in a way that Duncan couldn't remember seeing.

"How were the waves, mate?" Nick asked.

They talked about Simon's holiday from his new job - he was now a fitness instructor which Duncan both could see and found hard to imagine. Simon had always been so intense, so driven, and it felt wrong that he'd gone from being at the top of his game as a homicide cop to running classes in the park for rich elderly ladies.

He voiced the thought, only to meet a dry laugh from Jen.

"I'd say that's _exactly_ up Simon's alley," she remarked to laughter as their meals arrived.

"Anyway, what about you lot?" Simon asked, and suddenly it felt like he'd never awkwardly walked out of their lives. "What's new?"

"Well," Duncan took a deep breath. "I, uh, found my sister." It was something that he knew none of these white people would understand - they'd never had their families ripped from them like he had - but still, their support was appreciated. So he told them about how he and Grace caught up regularly now, and how he'd threatened her new boyfriend and how much it felt _right_ to have a sister.

"Lotta time to make up for," Simon said quietly, face uncharacteristically solemn.

"Yeah, but we're getting there," Duncan said.

"And you, Sergeant Ryan," Simon said, clapping Matt enthusiastically on the back. Matt gave an awkward smile. "Congratulations!"

"Yeah, thanks," Matt said, uncomfortably. "It's a big step but I think we're past the initial teething period hey guys?"

"Yeah," the other three chorused as cheerfully as they could. Duncan carefully didn't look at the other two.

"And what else, Matty?" Simon asked.

"Yeah, just settling in to being a Sergeant. Paperwork keeps me late most nights," Matt said with false cheer. 

"All right, so Dunny's got a sister, Matt's got paperwork, Nick's been held hostage," Simon had obviously decided to let Nick off the updates hook. "Jennifer?"

Nick smiled tightly, drumming his fingers on the table, suddenly tense. Jen threw him a _look_, then took a deep breath.

Suddenly, Duncan knew what she was about to say, and Nick's presence at a breakfast for the 'original squad' and their general uncharacteristic nervousness made _sense_.

"Well, two weeks ago I put in an application to transfer to Fraud," Jen said, shredding her napkin.

"Wait, what?" Matt huffed, oblivious as Nick tensed further and the drumming intensified. Simon remained silent. "Why would you - and why don't I know about this?"

"Well, um, I put in the request because," she took another deep breath, and reached a hand over on top of Nick's drumming hand. "_Will you stop that?!_ Um, because Nick and I are seeing each other."

The words hung in the air like a bomb, and Duncan found his gaze fixed on Matt. Matt had never been particularly subtle about the fact that he - well, that he found Jen attractive. And Jen had always been politely, deliberately, oblivious.

Matt's face now was a picture - mouth hanging open in surprise and more than a little hurt.

"Woah woah woah!" Simon exclaimed. "How long has this been going on for?!"

Jen let out an embarrassed laugh, and Nick smiled awkwardly. "Well, we started seeing each other last year," Jen said awkwardly. "Then we were off for a while, because of the pressure of work, and then...then we got back together after Nick was kidnapped."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, where, Duncan noticed, nobody looked at Matt.

"So wait, are you getting transferred?" Duncan asked.

"Waverley and Wolfie and Jarvis said they'd let us have a trial period," Nick answered, his hand still beneath Jen's. "So long as the team dynamic doesn't suffer."

"We've done it before," Jen said to her plate. "They said they'd let us try to do it again."

"And if the team dynamic does suffer?" Simon asked, his gaze flickering across to Matt, who was still sitting stunned.

"Then I'll get transferred to Fraud," Jen said.

"So _you're _taking the career hit?" Matt spoke up for the first time, pointedly.

"It's the most logical thing to do," Jen said firmly, her hand gripping Nick's.

"My career doesn't exactly have any options at the moment," Nick said dryly. "Trust me, I'd rather it be the other way around."

"He's not committing career suicide," Jen said firmly - not, Duncan suspected, for the first time. "If I get moved to Fraud it's not a real hit -"

"It's a step back not a step forward," Matt said.

"Really, it's a step sideways," Jen said. "Anyway. It's out of our hands."

There was a long pause.

"Well, career stuff aside," Duncan said, smiling at them. "This is great. Congratulations." He paused, before adding, "it feels like this was a long time coming."

Jen blushed, and Nick gave a shaky, embarrassed grin. "Thanks, Dunny," Jen said quietly. "It was."

"What, all of two years?" Simon teased, and with a jolt, Duncan remembered that the younger man had no clue about the fact that Nick and Jen had known each other for years, had posed as an undercover married couple well before they were in Homicide, before any of them knew Jen.

"Well, at the risk of sounding like a soppy mess," Nick said dryly, shooting a small smile at Jen. "It felt like I'd already known her for ages when I met her in Matty's kitchen."

Duncan choked on his coffee, as Si fake-retched. "Gross, Buchanan," Simon said. "Disgusting. It's not too late to reconsider, Jen."

Jen simply laughed, looking fondly over at Nick. "Sorry to bust your bubble, Si, but I kind of felt the same way."

"Pathetic," Simon announced. "Well, at least that answers the question as to how long this has been going on for."

"So Waverley and Jarvis and Wolfe know?" Matt asked with a huff, and Nick tensed.

"Yes, because Waverley was handling my transfer when Homicide was being disbanded," Jen said before Nick could speak. "Jarvis and Wolfe were there when we went to speak to her. They told us to handle it - just said we had to tell the squad within the month. We wanted to tell you guys first, away from work."

"When are you planning on telling Allie and Rhys?" Duncan jumped in.

"Rhys is the new guy?" Simon checked. Nick nodded.

"Well, we figured we'd just let them play detective and see how long it takes," Nick said wryly.

A thought occurred to Duncan, and he couldn't help but ask, "were they right?"

"Hey?" Simon asked.

"They thought Nick and Jen were shagging before, last year," Duncan explained.

"No, we weren't," Jen said, adding awkwardly, "not then."

But it couldn't have been all that long until they were, Duncan surmised. Rhys had made the mistake of trying to tease Nick and Jen about pretending to be married once.

_"Married, hey?" Rhys had said, waggling his eyebrows. "Just the one bed, I expect..."_

_"We don't talk about confidential operations," Jen had said firmly, and quietly, while Nick had snarled, uncharacteristically, "for the record, we were too busy worrying about being shot in the fucking head to worry too much about sleeping arrangements."_

That had been the end of it.

"Well, I want it kept out of work," Matt snapped. "I expect the two of you to be professional."

"Well, nobody noticed last time, and nobody's noticed over the last couple of weeks," Jen bit back. "So I don't think _we'll_ cause a problem."

Nick stayed silent, as Matt bristled. "Well, anyway, I better get back," Matt said abruptly, standing. "Good to see you Si. See the rest of you at work."

"Well, that went about as well as we expected," Nick murmured, nudging Jen's arm as they watched Matt stalk off to the counter.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Still, would've been nice if it had gone better."

"He was always going to be pissed he didn't find out with the rest of the brass," Nick assured her quietly, and Duncan wondered whether he knew of Matt's sort-of-crush on Jen.

"You two are happy?" Simon leaned forward over the table to ask intently.

Jen and Nick exchanged glances and small, sweet smiles. "Yeah," Jen said softly. "Really happy."

"Then I think this is great," Simon pronounced authoritatively, glancing at Duncan for support. "Congratulations."

"We didn't expect them to offer us a trial," Jen said, almost apologetically to Duncan. "But -"

"You'd have been idiots to turn it down. And if anyone can make it work it's you two. I don't have a problem with it," Duncan interrupted. "As long as you understand, Buchanan, I'll fucking rip you in pieces if you hurt her."

"I can take care of myself, Duncan," Jen snapped.

"He knows you can," Nick said placatingly, sounding amused. 

"If it makes you feel better, Jen," Simon said jokingly. "I'll promise to rip you apart if you hurt our Nicky."

Jen did laugh at that, and reached her hand across to tap Duncan's hand. "Sorry, Dunny, I know you meant it supportively," she said. "I just...we're grown adults. We know what we're doing."

"Yeah, and no matter how much of an adult you are you're still like a sister to me," Duncan said quietly. "So. The threat stands."

"You can join the queue, mate," Nick said with an easy laugh.

"Queue?" Jen asked sharply, and Nick shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Um, well, Wolfie pulled me aside, and then Jarvis shoved me against a wall, and Waverley issued me a matronly warning while telling me that the charges had been dropped," Nick said almost reluctantly. "And it's got nothing to do with any of them thinking you can't look after yourself and everything to do with them caring for you and understanding that you're taking more of a risk."

"Well, I'm threatening you to look after Nick because I don't think he can look after himself," Simon joked a little weakly, but the couple laughed and the tension broke. The four of them sat for a while longer, chatting, and it felt strange how normal it all seemed. Nothing had changed in the dynamic apart from the fact that Nick and Jen were still holding hands over the table. 

And they both looked quietly happy, happier than Duncan had seen them.

So he resolved to have their backs. Rhys would just need a firm word about not teasing them (Jen in particular; and it would be best if Nick didn't involve himself). Allie was going to be more tricky, but he figured that he could probably convince her to wait and see if there was a problem.

He couldn't do a lot about Matt, but hopefully if they all kept their heads down, it would blow over.

* * *

Duncan had deliberately arrived a little earlier than usual to watch it all play out. Rhys had already been there - probably had been since the crack of dawn - and Allie breezed in with her gym bag about five minutes after Duncan did.

As Allie dropped into her chair, the lift _pinged_ again, and Nick and Jen arrived to work. Together. They said nothing, simply greeting everyone as they reached their desks.

Rhys and Allie didn't seem to notice, instead launching straight into a discussion of their latest case, and whether anyone else reckoned that the mailman could've had the time to double back.

Duncan couldn't help but watch them a bit more closely than usual. He'd been incredulous last year when Allie had brought up the possibility of Jen-and-Nick, but that had been because they were just such _good_ friends. They joked together quietly, teasing gently, and bickering about cases in a relaxed fashion. They made each other coffees. And yet Duncan, sitting right across from Jen, had never felt left out when the two of them were talking, because their conversations weren't exclusive.

And that was probably how no-one had noticed that they'd slipped from friendship to something more - because they'd always had something more. In retrospect, it was clear that Nick had been in love with her from the start, and only a little less obvious that Jen had been at least halfway in love with him back.

So he offered Jen a supportive smile when Matt slammed into the office, and sat next to Nick in the briefing as Matt snapped at the other man for something petty. Nick clearly took a deep breath, and summoned a bland smile and breezy apology as across from them Jen stared at the table.

It sort of went on all day, Matt watching Nick and Jen suspiciously and being generally in a foul mood.

"What's eating him?" Rhys muttered at lunch. Jen stared fixedly at her computer while Nick shrugged, the tension in his shoulders only growing over the day. Duncan waited until the other four were in interviews before marching into the viewing room where Matt was watching the cameras.

"Do you want Jen to be transferred from this team?" he demanded quietly.

"What are you -" Matt began angrily.

"That's what you're going to achieve. The dynamic is being messed up by you being in a pissy mood, and then Waverley will transfer Jen out," Duncan pressed. He paused for a moment, before deciding to tackle the issue head on. "Are you jealous?"

_Yes_, was clearly the answer as Matt spluttered, "of course not! But they've been sneaking around behind my back and they went over my head."

"They've been sneaking around behind _everyone's _backs," Duncan said. "And you know what, it hasn't affected the job. They're professionals."

"Are you saying I'm not?" Matt snapped.

"Look, I get the surprise. But if you keep being pissy like this then all that's going to happen is Jen will get transferred and that friendship is lost," Duncan warned, before turning smartly on his heel and leaving.

Still it seemed to work, maybe. Matt was quiet all afternoon.

* * *

Two days later, and Rhys and Allie still hadn't said anything about the fact that Jen and Nick were arriving together and leaving together. Duncan figured they were preoccupied with the case - and, after all, technically Duncan had left the building at the same time as them last night. 

But they'd closed the case today, so he wasn't surprised that Nick and Jen exchanged glances as Rhys settled back at their table with a round of drinks.

"So," Jen said in a natural break in the conversation, when Allie finally stopped complaining about having to dive into a skip after the murder weapon. "You guys should know Nick and I are seeing each other. The brass know."

There's a long moment of silence, and Rhys' mouth falls open.

"I _knew_ it," Allie crowed viciously, punching Rhys in the shoulder, before affecting a high pitched voice. "Oh come on Allie, they just got here at the same time, they're just leaving at the same time."

Duncan chuckled.

"Since when?" Rhys asked.

"We thought Homicide was being dissolved," Nick said with a shrug. "So we got back together."

"_BACK TOGETHER!?"_ Allie exclaimed. "So last year, all that _we're just undercover_-"

"Shut it," Jen snapped.

"National security," Nick hissed. Allie abruptly shut her mouth.

"Anyway," Jen said, looking uncomfortable. "We started seeing each other after that all finished."

After it all blew up in their faces and Jen was shot, Duncan thought, watching as Nick shifted slightly to bring their shoulders in contact.

Rhys opened his mouth, no doubt to ask more, but surprised the whole table by then pausing and instead asking, "how'd it go, telling the brass?"

"They weren't best pleased," Nick said dryly. "But they've offered us a trial, said that as nobody knew we could try to continue in the same squad as long as we don't cause any problems."

"Neither of you are being transferred?" Allie asked sharply, glancing at Rhys for a moment.

"Not right now," Jen replied. "And before you ask, if this doesn't work, it'll be me that transfers."

"And before you start, Allie, I don't exactly have many options, and Jen won this argument," Nick added, seeing Allie's mouth fall open.

There was a moment of silence.

"You don't seem surprised, Duncan," Rhys comments, clearly trying to pivot away from _that_ discussion.

"We caught up with Simon for brekky on the weekend, and they told us then," Duncan said carefully.

"How is Si?" Allie asked, a little uncomfortably, while Rhys stayed silent.

"Good," Duncan said. "He's good. He's a personal trainer. Runs classes mostly for older married women."

"Sounds right up his alley," she snorted.

"That's what Jen said," Duncan tipped his beer bottle a little in her direction. Jen simply smirked.

"So we're the last to find out?" Rhys asked.

"We thought you'd enjoy the investigating and the gossip," Nick replied dryly. "Yeah, Matt was at brekky." Nobody asked the question, but Nick answered it anyway. "He wasn't real happy that he didn't find out with the rest of the brass but..."

"Is that why he's been an arsehole this week?" Allie asked.

Jen shrugged. "It's probably part of it." Her tone made it clear that she wanted the subject dropped.

"So are you guys not gonna work cases together or...?" Rhys asked.

They glanced at each other and shrugged. "Dunno," Nick said, sipping his beer. "To be honest, I think they're just playing it by ear. Probably won't be paired as much as we were though." 

"I mean, they've worked together before while they've been shagging," Allie said bluntly, and the couple blushed. "Oh god please tell me you haven't done it at work?!"

"Of course not," Nick said immediately, sounding disgusted.

"Where would you even - no, actually, don't answer," Jen said at the same time. 

"There's cameras all through that building, Allie," Duncan added his two cents.

"Not in the toilets, change rooms, emergency stairwell six or -" Allie trailed off as the other members of her team stared at her.

"I mean, you're begging the question here," Nick sounded amused, his eyebrow arched.

"What? No, I mean, I just notice- come on we're all cops, the first thing we do is check out where the CCTV is -" Allie spluttered.

Jen laughed. "Well, Allie, _I've _never particularly taken the opportunity to notice that," she said.

"But thanks for the information?" Rhys teased.

"Ew," Duncan said, as Nick choked on his beer.

"No, thanks, we're very happy to keep this off the clock," Jen said, leaning into Nick a little. "We will try to make sure this doesn't affect the way we do our jobs."

"Well, it hasn't so far," Rhys said cheerily. "So good on you two."

Allie was a little more guarded. "You think you can do raids and stuff together?" she asked.

"It's no different to when we were doing raids together before," Jen pointed out quietly. "This has been a long time coming."

"Yeah, but you guys weren't _together_ before," Allie pressed. "Surely it's different now."

"I don't feel all that differently now to when I first met Jen in Matt's kitchen," Nick admitted and Duncan watched as Jen curled a hand around his bicep.

Rhys and Allie exchanged startled glances.

"_Really_?!" Allie asked, sceptically. 

"Really," Jen answered firmly. "Anyway. Whether we go on raids together or not is up to the brass."

Nick drained his drink, and the two of them exchanged glances.

"We're off," Nick announced. 

"Don't stay up too late," Jen added breezily.


	4. Rhys

Rhys watched the couple depart. Nick's hand went to Jen's back in a gesture he'd seen the other man make hundreds of times. Tonight, though, Nick actually rested his hand in the small of her back instead of letting his hand hover there.

And he cursed himself for an idiot seven ways to Sunday for not recognising that they were in love. In retrospect, it was obvious. Nick was always opening doors for her and making her tea or coffee, or cheering her up with a quiet comment. Jen, for her part, always summoned a smile for him, let him steal her stationery and finish her drinks or meals (the number of times Rhys had watched them absently sharing a cup of coffee perched between their deskspaces...)

(How on _earth_ had he ever let them normalise _sharing a cup of coffee_?!)

"Well, I can't say that was unexpected, although I'm still surprised," he commented, looking back to Duncan and Allie, grateful that Jen-and-Nick had obviously left them alone to talk about them.

"The two of them shagging, no, the brass being cool with it, yes," Allie's voice held a bite of anger that Rhys recognised as being directed at 'the brass'. (Namely, Aunt Bernice). 

"You got a problem?" Duncan asked protectively.

"If any of the rest of us were shagging you think they'd be this relaxed about it?" Allie demanded.

"I think it's more that not only were they together and none of us knew, but they broke up, and none of us knew, and got back together and, I repeat, none of us knew," Rhys said.

"What he said," Duncan jerked his thumb at Rhys. "Look, if they mess up its on their heads. But I don't want us to mess this up for them. They're our friends."

"You're just angling for Best Man," Rhys joked.

"I'd look fine in a tux," Dunny grinned.

"You think that's on the cards?" Allie said skeptically.

"Were you listening to the same conversation I was?" Duncan asked incredulously. He lowered his voice and glanced around before saying, "Jen wouldn't put her job at risk like this if she wasn't dead serious about him."

"If they've felt that way about each other from the moment they 'met' in Matt's kitchen I'd say marriage is a foregone conclusion," Rhys said, pausing a moment before adding, "fifty bucks says they're married by September."

"You're on, Oxford," Allie was awfully predictable sometimes, but it defused the argument, and they spent another enjoyable hour or so drinking and gossiping about their colleagues.

* * *

He wasn't quite drunk when he got home from the bar, but he was certainly tipsy when he stumbled into the kitchen searching for water.

"Evening," Aunt Bernice's voice floated from the dining table, and Rhys looked over to see her - as always - at her laptop surrounded by files.

"Evening," he said as coolly as possible, but his Aunt gave him a small smirk to say she saw right through him and didn't care. "Water?"

"Please."

He drained his own glass of water, refilled it and another, and made his way over to the table, setting the glass in front of her and sitting across with the other. "So. Jen and Nick."

His aunt took a breath, and pushed her laptop aside slightly, arching an eyebrow. "Ah. So they told the crew?"

"Well, me and Allie," Rhys corrected. "They told Duncan and Matt on the weekend."

"I see," his aunt said, before delicately asking, "does anyone have any issues?"

"Not with Jen and Nick," Rhys half-lied, thinking of how pissy Matt had been. "They hid it well, I guess, but in retrospect it seems pretty obvious. But with the decision to leave them on the same team..."

"Ye-es," Bernice gave nothing away.

"Well, it feels like there's two rules. One for relationships you approve of personally and one for -"

"You'd rather I destroy Jennifer Mapplethorpe's career?" his aunt interrupted sharply. "Buchanan may have been cleared of the corruption charges, but nobody will touch him with a barge pole. She's decided that she will move, not him, if it comes to it."

"How much of a mess is the Dane Majors' case?" Rhys changed tack. Even if they were - allegedly - not together then, the fact that they were now in a relationship had to bring questions up as to Jen's shooting of Majors.

His aunt winced. "Given Buchanan's injuries, and the fact that you got back there before Mapplethorpe had completely untied him, and the bodies in the ground, Jennifer's been cleared of any issue."

_But it was still messy_, Rhys surmised. "So if she's been cleared, how will transferring her destroy her career?" 

His aunt sighed. "From the outside, she's a young police officer having an affair with a cop who's just been accused of corruption, and remains tainted. We move her, that's putting all the responsibility for the affair and for Buchanan on her. We counselled them against this relationship, but they were ...pretty clear." Bernice's face twisted wryly. "The reason we're affording them this opportunity is because we've seen that they can work together regardless of what is going on in their personal lives."

"And because secretly you're a bit of a romantic?" Rhys teased. His aunt gave him a soft, almost sad smile.

"Marriages in this job don't tend to last," she said quietly. "I hope they're happy. But if not, I intend on making sure Jennifer hasn't thrown her career after her heart."

* * *

Rhys had only just sat down at his desk on Monday morning when the elevator pinged, and Nick and Jen entered the office. 

"Morning, you two," Rhys called with a grin.

"Morning," Jen said briskly, slinging her jacket over the back of her chair and sitting, as Nick peeled away to the tearoom.

"How was your weekend?" Rhys asked.

"Good," Jen said. "Yours?"

"Yeah, good," Rhys said, getting from her tone of voice that pushing would be a bad idea. He turned back to his computer, looking up a few minutes later when he heard Allie exclaim.

"God what happened to you, Buchanan!?"

He spun around to see a sunburned Nick shrug. "Was building fences, probably needed a bit more sunscreen," he said evenly.

"Ya think?!" Allie exclaimed. "You look like a bloody tomato."

"You were spared the fence-building, then, Jen?" Rhys chortled.

"Yes, don't worry, I stayed inside with all the womenfolk," his colleague drawled sarcastically.

Rhys opened his mouth, then paused, seeing Nick shake his head behind Jen. Jen, for her part, raised an eyebrow in challenge, and something in her expression made Rhys a little glad that Matt bustled out of his office and interrupted.

"Got a call out," he said briskly. "Rhys, Jen, you're up - Buchanan, what the hell happened to you?"

"Sunburn, Sarge," Nick said easily. Matt's gaze clearly slid to the obviously-not-sunburned-Jen, and there was an awkward moment of silence.

"Crime scene are on their way?" Jen prompted, reaching for the slip of paper Matt held. He nodded, and held it out to her. Rhys scrambled to grab his jacket and catch up as she stalked away. Her frosty silence in the lift persuaded him not to push it.

* * *

They were coming back out of the lift after visiting the crime scene when Jen's phone rang for a second time. She checked it, made a face, and ignored it.

"I get not taking a call at the crime scene," Rhys prodded, nodding at the phone. "But now -?"

"It's not important," Jen said briskly. "I'll ring them back."

Well, the entire tone of the day seemed to be Don't-Mess-With-Jen so Rhys raised an eyebrow but let it go.

He even let it go an hour later when her phone rang again.

[If they hadn't been in the afternoon briefing when her phone rang and was ignored for the fourth time that day, he probably _wouldn't_ have been able to let it go].

That evening, they were settling down for a rousing few hours of going through files when Jen's desk phone rang while she was in the tearoom making a cuppa.

"I'll get it," Rhys volunteered immediately, rolling his chair over to snag the phone. He wondered whether Jen's mystery caller had given up on calling her mobile and instead opted to call the station directly. "Jennifer Mapplethorpe's desk, Rhys Levitt speaking."

"Hello, my name is Kerrie Mapplethorpe," said the caller, an older woman, so presumably Jen's mum. "I've been trying to get onto Jennifer?"

"She's just stepped out for a moment -" Rhys began.

"Oh, well, is Nick there then?" Jen's mum interrupted.

"Nick?" Rhys repeated stupidly, his eyes flying up to meet the older man's. Nick simply raised an eyebrow, and leaned over the desk past a grinning Duncan, reaching out to take the phone. "Yeah, uh, here he is. Mrs Mapplethorpe."

"Hi Kerrie," Nick said easily, settling back in his chair. "Nick here. Yeah, good. Jennifer's co lead on a big case right now, so she's been really busy today - she was going to call you back when we got home."

_Home_?! mouthed Allie incredulously to Rhys, and he waved a hand at her, trying to be subtle as he too eavesdropped.

[From the expression on Nick's face, though, Rhys suspected the other man already knew they were listening in. But he was talking on a desk phone, and couldn't exactly walk away].

"Well, I'm working this weekend, and she's on next weekend," Nick said after a pause. "Depending on how the roster looks after that we'll let you know but of course I'm happy to help out with the barn."

There was a long pause, and Nick's eyes widened a little.

"That's not...right now it wouldn't fit in with our careers," he said patiently, before there was another pause. "No, I'm not opposed to the idea but it's something that would be hard to fit in and it's really up to Jennifer ..."

Jen bustled in at that point, to Nick's clear relief. "Uh, she's just walked back into the office, let me put you on to her," he put his hand over the mouthpiece. "Your mother."

Jen's eyes narrowed. "What does she want?" she hissed. "That's like, the sixth call today!"

"Barn renovations and then..." Nick's eyes drifted across to Rhys, Duncan, and Allie pointedly. "The usual."

"I see," Jennifer said, jaw firming. "Hi mother. Yes, I'm still at work, that's why I texted to say I'd call _after_ work. This really isn't urgent. And no, Nick's not gonna help with the barn -"

"Oh, I don't mind, Jen," Nick interrupted.

"It's an asbestos death trap," Jen said both to Nick and into the phone. "Dad needs to get someone to do it properly. If he bulldozes it completely, I'm sure Nick can help out when we're free to drive up, but he's not renovating a barn of asbestos and Dad shouldn't either. Oh I can hear Dad in the background, put him on," she paused, rolling her eyes at Nick who simply smirked back. "Father. No, Nick will not under any circumstances help you renovate the barn. It's full of asbestos, and you should have it done properly. And please don't pin everything on him, Nick has enough reno projects of his own here without you adding a barn. I'd quite like to not live in a construction site before we start renovating that old thing - it's needed doing since before I was born so it can wait. Okay? Love you too. Sure, put Mum back on."

Nick coughed, clearly trying to hide a laugh, and Jen narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yes, Mum?" Jen said with exaggerated patience. "No, nothing's changed since we had this discussion on the weekend. It's not on the cards. Of course I'll let you know if things change. I have to get back to work now, okay? Love you. Bye."

She set the phone down with a decisive click then groaned. "Sorry, Nick."

"It's okay," he replied, sounding amused. "Sorry, didn't realise it was supposed to be a flat no on the barn."

"Dad's obviously come up with that brilliant idea today," Jen sighed. 

"Your parents live on a farm?" Rhys asked. Jen always seemed like such a city person, and if Rhys had had to put money on it he'd've bet she'd been born and raised in inner city Melbourne.

"Dairy farmers," Jen answered. "Just outside of Warragul."

"So, Nick's met the in-laws then?" Allie probed.

"Yep," Jen replied shortly. Nick stayed silent.

"Well, it obviously went well," Duncan said cheerily. 

"Yeah," Jen's face softened a little and she shot a small smile over at Nick. "They like him. He and Dad bonded over splinters and whining about shoddy construction."

"They just like that I'm tall and can reach things," Nick said dryly, his words belied by the returning smile.

"Oh, is your family all short like you, Jen?" Allie asked.

"I'm not that short," Jen protested.

The other three exchanged glances.

"Jen's one of the taller people in her family," Nick said carefully. 

"So you're Gulliver," Rhys joked.

"What, dumb and bumbling?" Nick objected.

"That's Gilligan," Jen corrected.

"Although..." Duncan said teasingly.

"Oi," Nick complained. 

"Your mum onto you to get married or something already?" Allie asked bluntly, and Rhys knew she was thinking of their bet. 

"Worse," Jen replied glumly.

"Not sure how to take that," Nick muttered good-naturedly.

"Is she on you to have _kids_ already?" Rhys asked slowly, thinking it would explain a lot. Jennifer was clearly conflicted about the idea of having children; Rhys suspected that it was because it was something she wanted, but had been telling herself not to want because of her career aspirations.

Still, Nick would be a good dad, and he'd probably be happy to let his career take a back seat to hers, Rhys thought.

Jen simply groaned in response.

"The first thing Kerrie said to me was, 'well, finally, some tall genes in the family even if your hairline's receding'," Nick said, self-consciously running his hand through his hair.

"I spent all weekend telling her it wasn't on the cards," Jen grumbled.

"Not ever?" Duncan said, sounding a little disappointed. "I'd make a great uncle."

"Don't you dare start on me," Jennifer snapped, glaring at them all. "I don't want to hear another word about it."

* * *

"It's serious," Rhys said, dumping his keys on the table and flopping onto the couch with a sigh.

"I'm sorry?" Aunt Bernice looked up from her armchair, where she was busy typing on her laptop.

"Nick and Jen," Rhys replied. "He's met her family. Built fences with her Dad. Her family's pressuring them to have kids."

The click-clack of typing stopped for a moment, and his Aunt hesitated before closing her mouth slowly.

"They're not planning on it," Rhys said, hoping he'd interpreted the unspoken question.

"I'm not supposed to ask the question," she replied.

"Of course. Anyway. You knew it was serious like this when you let them stay together," he accused.

"Yes," Bernice said. "It was serious enough for them to come to us requesting transfer, so of course it was serious. They weren't about to get found out or anything - they just wanted to be open and honest."

"I thought things would change in the team," Rhys confessed. "But it really hasn't much."

"Good," his aunt said.


	5. Allie

Allie was angry about it at first, she had to admit. Angry that she and Rhys had been told to cut it out, and then angry at herself for being angry about _Oxford._

She didn't even _like_ Rhys, but it was definitely unfair to have a double standard, just because Waverley didn't like her but did like Jen. And she felt she couldn't even be smug about having called it right the previous year, when Nick and Jen had been clear that they hadn't been shagging when she'd accused them of it.

[And then, of course, they weren't supposed to talk about the Claybournes. Ever. Nick got all up on his 'national security' high horse and Jen just tended to go dead quiet].

She had the weekend off, and did far more thinking about Nick-and-Jen than she would have ever admitted, while running her usual trails. It helped to run her anger away, and she decided to see how it played out. After all, it wasn't Jen's fault that she was the kind of woman that got on with people, nor was it their fault that Waverley was letting them do something that she had punished Allie for.

If their relationship interfered, though, Allie was definitely going to say something. A girl could only tolerate so much of a double standard.

She wasn't the only one who watched them closely on Monday. Dunny had it easier, sitting at the same table as them, while Rhys had to keep glancing over his shoulder. From her corner, though, Allie could hunker down over her computer and watch both of them without being too obvious.

It wasn't quite accurate to say that they were pretending everything was the same; normally, there'd be lots of quiet murmuring at that table, often involving Duncan (Allie had always been a little jealous of how close the three older team members were - there was _history_ there that she just didn't share) but while things might have been a bit quieter, they weren't all that different.

The computer guy (Peter? Paul? Allie could never remember his name) came and clumsily flirted with Jen like always. She smiled graciously at him like always. Nick didn't even look up. 

She didn't quite get it. Look, Allie wasn't blind. Nick was a good-looking guy if tall and dark was your type. But he was kind of ... boring. Bland. Responsible. The kind of guy your mum would be delighted for you to bring home, not the kind of guy you'd have a scandalous office affair with.

"Just spit it out, Allie," Jen said peevishly over the kettle that afternoon when Allie walked in to find Jen alone, opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"_Why_ Nick?" the question bubbled over. " I mean...he's just a bit...well, boring."

Jen actually laughed. "I don't think he's boring," she said loyally. "He's just responsible and organised."

"How is having a fortnightly set meal plan not boring?" Allie asked dryly. Nick had hosted team dinner a few times, enough for Allie to have spotted his meal plan on the fridge, and marvel at how spotless his house always seemed to be despite the ever-constant renovations.

"There's a fair bit of variety in it," Jen remarked in amusement. "Plus I eat much less takeout now." Allie's expression must still have been skeptical, because Jen smiled at her patronisingly. "Dependability is really attractive in a guy. And Nick's middle name could be dependable."

It clicked the following Monday when Nick came back from the weekend sunburned, and then spoke to Jen's mum on the phone. Allie had been thinking of the relationship all wrong - and it was probably gonna cost her the fifty dollar bet with Rhys.

Nick wasn't the kind of guy to have a torrid office affair with, but he was the kind of guy you could introduce to your mum. And Jen had. And her mum's talk had skipped straight over marriage to babies. Which Nick had handled with a kind of smoothness that Allie had to admire, picturing Jen's mum as an older version of her persistent co-worker.

But skipping straight to baby talk kind of implied that Jen and Nick getting married was a given.

And while Allie could see Nick as a married man, it seemed weirder to imagine Jen - driven, career oriented Jen - happy to settle down in the suburbs with Nick (even without children).

Before Allie knew it, a couple of weeks had passed, the new normal feeling less new and more normal. Everything had changed - and yet nothing had as well. Nick and Jen simply arrived together and left together, and Jen was a little less stressy and Nick was a little less grim.

The stress level promptly went up one day when Jarvis swanned in and said with glee he'd be supervising a case and picked Nick and Jen to run it. It was clearly a test for all of them - not just Nick and Jen who exchanged a wry glance about it. Allie barely contained herself from making a comment when the two of them headed out of the office together to chase a lead. (Rhys waited until Jarvis had left the bullpen before making some kind of smart-aleck remark about bath-houses.

Still, the briefing that they put together flowed smoothly and as well as it had _before_. Nick picked a hole in one of Jen's theories during it. She rolled her eyes, but conceded the point with as good a grace as Jen ever managed (she was generally pretty terrible at admitting she was wrong).

(To be fair, she usually wasn't wrong, Duncan pointed out later when the three of them dissected the day).

The pair had the case closed barely two days later, and Allie knew that their positions on the team were pretty safe when Jarvis remarked that it was good work from the Maplethorpes. (Nick and Jen waited until the Superintendant had left the room before exchanging an eye-roll).

The next test came the following week, when they were all suited up for a raid. Allie was initially too preoccupied with her own irritation at being picked out by Wolfie to be on the backup team to notice that her partner was Nick.

Jen's face might as well have been carved out of granite as she walked with Dunny to the front entrance team (the most dangerous position) without a glance back. Nick lacked some of her poker face; he was visibly unhappy but followed Allie to their station. He was tense as they listened to the team bust open the door, and flinched a little with the gunshots.

"So, the same as before?" Allie couldn't help but ask dryly.

Nick shot her a look, but after a moment he muttered, "well, now I don't have to try to hide that I'm worried."

"She can take care of herself," Allie pointed out. "Dunny's with her."

"I know," Nick snapped, before taking a breath. "I know.'

The two of them weren't required - they stood there until Jarvis told them to stand down as the rest of their team came out, the handful of suspects being walked by the uniforms on the raid team. Jen returned Nick's relieved smile with a reassuring one, and Wolfie patted Nick on the back as he passed.

And with that, Nick and Jen's positions on the team were clearly safe.

Allie was fine with it. It was hard not to be when, really, their relationship just didn't seem that relevant. The only real change to their jobs day in and day out was that whenever they went on raids, Jen and Nick were never paired together and if one was going in, the other stayed backup.


	6. Matt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Excuse my below headcanon about Nick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No surprises Matt's chapter was the hardest - I knew exactly what I wanted to write, but writing it from his POV was challenging. Hope you enjoy.

Investigations didn't usually start with Jarvis and Wolfie escorting an army captain and a lieutenant in full dress uniforms into his office, but this was clearly not a normal investigation.

"Sergeant Matt Ryan, this is Captain Robert Barnes and Sergeant James Hanson," Wolfe introduced them.

"Hello," Matt stood up, awkwardly reaching over his desk to shake their hands. Barnes was a couple of inches shorter than he was and more stocky. His hair was cut short, but not in a typical military style, and he sported a short beard. Hanson was shorter again, but rangy, and he was clean-shaven with a crew cut. After a few seconds, Matt felt well and truly scrutinised by their dark, watchful gazes.

"Ryan," the captain greeted briskly.

"Captain," Matt said, glancing at Jarvis and Wolfie.

"Last night a body was found down on George Street," Jarvis said, uncharacteristically grim. "He's been identified as Trooper Michael Richards, and he was a serving member of the Australian Army. Captain Barnes here is his troop commander."

"He was on a week's leave here in Melbourne; he's stationed in WA," said Barnes. "Hanson here is an ADF investigator. He'll work with you on the case."

Matt frowned. "He was on leave from the army?" he said. _And killed in the city centre, presumably on a night out. That didn't need to involve the ADF at all - it should be under civilian jurisdiction_.

"But we obviously understand that the Army has an interest in looking after its men and we're going to welcome their cooperation in this case," Jarvis said hastily, throwing Matt a filthy look.

"I didn't mean -" Matt spluttered.

"We appreciate it and won't step on any toes," Barnes cut in smoothly. "Shall Hanson bring Sergeant Ryan up to speed?"

"No we'll do a full briefing," Wolfe stepped in. "Detectives Buchanan and Kingston will be back from court shortly, so there's time for a cup of coffee if you need one."

"Shouldn't I head to the scene -?" Matt began.

"I've just come from there, Sergeant," Hanson spoke up for the first time. "I can fill you in."

Matt tried hard to keep his voice level as he said, "I generally prefer to get a feel myself for the scene."

"Well, after the briefing you can head back down if you deem it necessary, Sergeant," Jarvis snapped.

There was an awkward pause. "Coffee sounds good," Barnes said. The two uniformed men were led out by Jarvis, and Wolfe turned to look at him.

"Don't make waves, Matt," Stanley said after a moment.

"They've got an agenda," Matt said defensively.

"Our agenda is solving this man's murder," Stanley said firmly. "Working with them will give us the best chance of doing that."

* * *

Hanson and Barnes had made their coffees then immediately moved to the briefing room. Despite his misgivings, Matt was impressed at how speedily Hanson started setting out his briefing.

"Most of our investigators have the same training as state or federal police," Barnes said quietly, following Matt's gaze. "Hanson here worked in the Queensland Police Force before joining the army."

"Good," Matt said, glancing at the captain, hesitating before saying, "our first priority is solving this murder."

"So's mine," Barnes said grimly, holding Matt's gaze steadily. Matt simply nodded.

They heard his team before they saw them, and subconsciously all the officers in the room turned to the open doors to the briefing room.

Duncan, Rhys, and Jen entered the briefing room, their chatter halting as they took in the uniformed men in the room.

"Captain Robert Barnes and Sergeant James Hanson," Wolfe made the introductions. "These are Detectives Duncan Freeman, Rhys Levitt, and -"

"Jennifer Mapplethorpe," Barnes finished, stepping forward with the first smile Matt had seen from the grim man. "How are you, Jen?"

"Good, Rob," she said as they exchanged a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'd say it was good to see you but..."

"Yes, it could be under better circumstances," Barnes said. "Glad to have you working on this case, though."

"We do our best," Jen responded, taking a seat, and ignoring Jarvis' raised eyebrow. 

Just as Matt felt the question of exactly how Jen knew Barnes begin to bubble up, they were interrupted by Allie's typical whirlwind entrance - stopping dead just inside the room and gawping at the ADF guys.

"Detective Allie Kingston," Matt introduced. "Where's -?"

"You know, Buchanan, in the Army, tardiness gets you a sickener," Barnes interrupted as Nick appeared behind Allie.

"Lucky for me the police are not psychopathic about punctuality," Nick said with a grin, stepping past Allie. 

Barnes chuckled. "Good to see you, Nicky," he said as the two men hugged each other.

"Likewise, mate, despite the circumstances. I assume he's one of yours?" Nick asked, drawing back. Barnes grimaced.

"Unfortunately," he said. He turned partway, addressing Hanson, "Hanson, this dickhead here was one of the blokes who carried me halfway across the Stirlings when a rockslide took me down and I injured my ankle."

"It wasn't even broken," Nick remarked ruefully, taking his seat. "Yet I carried your heavy ass over how many clicks?"

Hanson gave Nick a look of respect. "Builds character, I suppose."

"You were Army, Nick?" Allie asked in surprise.

"Long time ago," Nick said shortly, glancing at Barnes. Who promptly launched into briefing the crew about the dead soldier in an unsubtle change of subject. Matt tuned out, having already heard these details earlier.

Jen had greeted Barnes with ... well, affection. She obviously knew him through Nick, and it took Matt by surprise. As did the revelation that Nick had been in the Army. He was pretty sure that over the years of their acquaintance Nick had never mentioned _that, _and Matt couldn't help but wonder why.

He just...he tried his best to not think about _Jen and Nick_. He was over the crush he'd had on her, Matt definitely didn't still think about how she was pretty and focussed and _got him_ like no one else had. He was not into Jen. But it was still a little hurtful that she'd turned him down so definitively, so absolutely, and yet she'd been perfectly happy to risk everything for Nick bloody Buchanan.

What was special about Nick? He was probably the most bland man Matt had ever known. Matt liked the guy, everyone did; he was the kind of genial, quiet guy that you could rely on. 

Jennifer, though, Jennifer was _interesting_. She was all sparky and complicated, and Matt wondered what on earth she saw in Nick. A safe bet to settle for, maybe.

"So he was on leave?" Allie interrupted. "Who else from his ... what do you call it, unit? was on leave?"

Barnes bristled. "It wasn't any of my boys."

"Why not?" Allie demanded. "They're trained killers -"

"Does this look like the work of a trained killer or a thug, Detective?" Hanson asked pointedly, gesturing to the photograph of the badly bashed private on the whiteboard.

"You're not seriously suggesting that it couldn't possibly be one of the men who knows him, maybe is irritated by him, who has been trained to kill?"

"We're not thugs," Barnes snapped. 

"We're not trying to stitch up one of your boys, Robbie, but if one of them has done it, you don't want him out there," Nick spoke up, placatingly.

A muscle ticked in Barnes' jaw.

"There's a Fry in every group, mate," Nick added quietly after a moment.

Barnes let out a barely perceptible sigh. "I can get you a list of who else was on leave in Melbourne," he said tightly after a moment.

"Thanks," Allie said sarcastically. 

"What's a Fry?" Rhys asked, obviously trying to defuse the tension.

"Private Fry," Nick replied. "Army slang for a guy who doesn't look out for the rest of his unit. Our version was Rottie."

"Nicknamed Rottweiler," Barnes added. "But we shortened it."

"What was Nick's nickname?" Rhys asked with a big grin.

"Bucky," Barnes replied, and Rhys' face fell in disappointment. "Although...the DI called him Daisy."

"_Daisy?_" Allie and Rhys exclaimed in delight at the same time.

"You mother..." Nick muttered, glaring at his friend.

"In PT Nicky would always be up the front of the runners," Barnes explained. "Until you put him in gear, then he'd drop to the second half of the pack. Sarge said if he wanted to be that fucking delicate he could go be a flower instead."

"Daisy Buchanan," Rhys said again with a grin.

"Yeah, you don't get to call me that," Nick said firmly.

"Although I'd be happy to arrange for you to run the course in full gear to earn the right to use the name," Barnes said with a dangerous smile.

A chuckle went up around the room as Rhys shuddered.

"Well," Jarvis drawled. "Sergeant Ryan, you and Buchanan can spear-head this case then, in partnership with Sergeant Hanson."

Matt startled, glancing at Jarvis. He wanted to object - he had deliberately not paired himself with Nick or Jen since this whole thing became a ... thing... but there was no good excuse he could think of on the fly. In fact, Nick was the obvious partner. "Yes sir." He straightened up. "We'd better get down to the crime scene then, Buchanan."

"I've already been," Hanson objected, pointing to the board.

"I like to go myself," Matt retorted, feeling the beginning of a headache. "Get a feel for the case."

"Yes, Sergeant," Hanson said in a clipped fashion. 

"Go with them, Hanson," Barnes ordered. "No point you cooling your heels here. Second look couldn't hurt."

"Sir," Hanson replied crisply.

"Well, get going then," Jarvis said impatiently.

* * *

It wasn't until they were in the car that Matt broached the topic.

"Never knew you were in the army."

Nick shrugged, glancing over his shoulder as he switched lanes. "Only for a little while," he said non-committally. "So it never seemed relevant to mention."

In the back seat, Hanson cleared his throat, and Matt glanced back. The other man's face was studiously blank.

"How come you left?" Matt asked.

"I was discharged," Nick said. 

"Medical grounds?" Hanson asked curiously.

"Something like that," Nick replied. "It was a long time ago." He pulled over, and Matt looked at the set of his jaw and figured that he wasn't going to get a further answer.

* * *

"He was bashed badly," Nick briefed the team, tapping the board. "Then he was moved and dumped."

"We've not gotten much from CCTV beyond this ute speeding away," Matt took up the thread, putting up a still of a grey ute, dirt obscuring the plate. "Uniform are trying to trace it - it's the only vehicle to have come out of this lane. Anything from backgrounds?"

"Five other members of his squad are in Melbourne on leave as well," Jennifer reported. "They were due to meet for drinks tonight, but none of them had seen him since they landed yesterday morning."

"Their personnel files are pretty bare on the details," Rhys spoke up, glancing at Nick.

His face gave nothing away as he shrugged. "They were recruits, what do you expect to be in their files?"

"Some of these guys have been in the army for a long time," Rhys said slowly. "Some have been overseas. Then some, like Richards, are pretty much just kids. According to their files."

"Do you stay assigned to one department in the police force for your whole career, Detective?" Hanson asked pointedly. "You would have been a rookie somewhere, and you get assigned to different parts of the ADF as you progress through."

Matt narrowed his eyes at Hanson, then glanced over at Nick, who was as hard to read as ever.

"If Richards' work was relevant to his death," Wolfe, who had been standing quietly at the back of the room, said slowly. "We do need that information."

"Richards' file has been made available," Hanson said briskly.

"I've got details on his recruitment, on his initial post here in Melbourne at the Oakleigh Barracks, then it just says transferred and reassigned to WA," Rhys objected. "For further training as a signaller. We have no other information about his colleagues -"

"Who are back in WA. The ADF knows where its soldiers are," Nick interrupted. "If they weren't on leave, they're not relevant. It's a bit hard to kill someone who's two states away."

"That's definitely not true," Duncan objected.

"How's an Australian soldier on an Australian base gonna organise a hit, Dunny?"

"Is he in the SAS?" Allie asked impatiently.

There was a pause. 

"I have no idea," Hanson said. "I'm just a detective in the Army." Allie glanced at Nick.

"Why would I know?" Nick laughed. "I'm not even in the Army."

"You seemed awfully tight with his boss," Rhys said.

Nick shrugged. "You think he'd walk around telling an old training buddy if he were in the SAS? It's definitely a more interesting story than being a staff instructor for signallers, but that doesn't make it true."

"It's just, if we're wasting our time on this case like we were with the Su-"

"It's not like if he's involved in anything classified that I would know about it," Nick interrupted, glaring at Allie. "And if the ADF thought it was classified, we'd never have been involved in the first place."

"But for the fact that the body was found by civilians, and the civilian pathologist had already been called," Matt muttered.

"I can always recommend to my superiors that you're uncomfortable investigating his death in a civilian setting," Hanson suggested. 

"That's not necessary," Wolfe said firmly. "The ADF have given us the relevant information. Get back to it." He strode back to his office. The rest of them trailed out of the room behind him.

"If I were to get your file, would it be as bland as these guys?" Rhys asked Nick, pushing the point.

"I was never deployed," Nick replied tightly.

"I didn't think the army let you go without taking their pound of flesh," Allie said.

"You mean, doing the service for your country you signed up for," Nick snapped.

"Why are you so touchy about this?" Duncan asked, his tone softer than Allie or Rhys'.

Nick let out a huge sigh. "Because my brief stint in the army is not relevant to anything," he said.

"If it were irrelevant, you wouldn't still be mates with "Robbie"," Matt couldn't help but say. 

"And Jen wouldn't know him," Duncan added.

"What, you don't have any friends from the academy?" Jen spoke up for the first time, glaring at them all. "Or high school that you keep in contact with?"

"There's nothing like getting beasted with a group of blokes to bond you together," Hanson added wryly from behind Matt, startling him.

"Beasting?" Duncan frowned.

"It's as bad as it sounds," Nick remarked. "Staff might start you off on a ten k run, then you do pushups and sit-ups, then you might carry rocks up a hill, then you might do carry exercises..."

"And it goes on and on and on," Hanson said. "Coffee, Buchanan?"

"Great idea, Hanson," Nick replied, and the two men strode to the kitchen.

"I'm just curious about what makes someone switch careers from the army to being a cop -" Rhys began, looking over at Jen who let out a loud huff.

"Leave it," she snapped. "It's Nick's business."

"But you know," Matt said pointedly.

"Yes," Jen replied flatly. 

The moment dragged on. Once, Matt thought ruefully, Jen might have told him anyway. They had confided in each other...they'd been friends.

But Jen's face was set, and it was clear there was no way she was going to say anything. 

He couldn't let that be the last word. "As long as he can be objective about his mates," Matt heard himself say, before he turned sharply and headed into his office.

* * *

"Sergeant," Matt looked up to see Nick and Hanson leaning in the doorway. "Got a phone call. There's a bar in the city that's run by an ex-Army man."

"Popular spot for the boys when they're off-duty," Hanson added.

"Anyway, I know the bartender there. He says that Richards was drinking there last night," Nick said. "Gonna check it out." 

Matt was partly tempted to wave him on with Hanson, but he knew if he did then Jarvis and Wolfie would probably have something to say. (Wolfe with a gentle but firm comment, Jarvis with a - well, Jarvis would probably just roll his eyes and sigh loudly and complain even more loudly).

But it didn't stop him from feeling out of place as they entered this bar of Nick's. Matt hadn't quite been sure what to expect, but it was not a space that screamed military, with classic wooden panelling, an Essendon flag in one corner of the room, and small booths along the walls along with a long bar. In fact the only thing that gave it away was a series of framed military patches on the wall behind the bar in one corner.

"Bucky," a big, intimidating looking guy extended a tattoo-covered arm over the counter, clasping Nick's hand.

"Hey, mate," Nick said. "How's it going? How's Sally and the boys?"

"They're good, mate," said the other man. "How's your girl?" 

It took Matt a moment to realise that this stranger was talking about Jennifer, and it made him bristle. He felt sure that Jen wouldn't appreciate being called "Nick's girl". But as he was trying to think of something to say, the conversation moved on.

"Yeah, she's good," Nick said easily. "This is Sergeant James Hanson, army detective, assisting us with our enquiries. And this is Sergeant Matt Ryan, Homicide with me. This is Thomas McKenzie."

"Let me guess, another army friend?" Matt asked, somewhat sourly.

"Sort of," Nick replied blandly. "We actually met after we were both discharged."

"Same cricket team," McKenzie said easily. "Speaking of, you're coming Sunday? My Sal's got some shindig planned with the other girls - Jen going along?"

"Yes and yes, provided this case doesn't drag on," Nick answered. "You said on the phone Richards was here?"

"Yeah," McKenzie said. "Got into it with another lad - about a girl, I think."

"A physical altercation?" Hanson clarified.

"Well, it started becoming fisticuffs," McKenzie said. "Me'n a few regulars separated them."

"Told them to take it outside?" Matt asked sharply.

"No," McKenzie said firmly. "We don't let them leave together if that sort of stuff is happening. I sat Richards down at the bar, and called him a cab, while the other man was dragged out by his mates and the girl."

"Do you have a name for the other man?" Hanson asked.

McKenzie shook his head. "No, sorry. He and his mates have been in a few times, but not enough for me to recognise them. We do have CCTV in the bar though, and I can get you that."

"So they left and then you put Richards in a cab?"

McKenzie nodded. "Around 2130," he replied. "The other lads were gone by then."

* * *

"The CCTV backs up his claims," Matt briefed the rest of the team. "Here's some stills of the men in question."

Hanson snapped his phone shut. "They're at the Simpson," he said. "Recruits, all. Daniel Taylor, Adam Kowalski, and Shaun Black," he paused. "Their CO's reported that they turned up badly bruised the other day."

"No wonder we didn't get anywhere looking at civilian hospitals," Jen commented.

"Exactly," Hanson agreed. "They went to the military doctor instead."

"Let's go bring them in," Matt ordered.

* * *

It was a little sad how quickly it all unravelled. The three recruits admitted to the fight in the bar over Richards' ex-girlfriend. They'd been separated by McKenzie, but Richards had taken his cab around to his ex-girlfriend's apartment. Seeing him at the door, she'd called Daniel Taylor - her new boyfriend.

"It turned ugly," he admitted. "We were all a bit drunk, and I think that made it worse. He was still alive, though, and we just took him and moved him out of the way."

"You dumped him in an alleyway after bashing him three against one," Nick said grimly. "You didn't call for help. You left him to die."

"I thought he'd wake up," Taylor muttered, looking at the table. "Anyway, he was planning to hurt Lizzie."

"So rather than calling the police, you and two of your mates jumped him and bashed him and left him to die," Matt summarised.

"He was a door kicker," Nick growled. "They don't give that name for nothing. If he had wanted to hurt her, he would have."

Taylor's face blanched. "All she said was he was transferred to a base in WA." He stared at his bruised hands a little. "Kinda explains why he was hard to keep down."

"Well, he's dead and the three of you will be staying at Her Majesty's pleasure," Nick said. "And you can wave your careers goodbye."'

* * *

Upstairs, Barnes and Hanson were talking quietly in the briefing room. Barnes looked up as they entered. "All this over a damn base rat?" he exclaimed.

"To be fair," Jen interrupted, taking down the photographs from the board. "Having spoken to her, she'd broken it off with him a month or more ago. She was allowed to do that, and allowed to move on with whomever she wanted."

"You tell the boys it's just what happens, right?" Nick said.

"Yeah, it's a rite of passage," Barnes sighed. "The married blokes don't like it."

"Well, they shouldn't go in for it then," Nick said harshly.

"What is it that's different?" Hanson asked.

Nick and Barnes exchanged glances.

"Being bagged," Nick said. "I'd say it's being bagged."

"What's that?" Rhys asked. "And how does it relate to relationships?"

"We train for everything," Barnes said after a moment. "Including being captured. How do you think Bucky survived so long when that psycho cricket player captured him?"

Nick looked supremely uncomfortable. 

"What do you mean? He was going to kill Nick but Rhys and Jen found him," Allie said.

"He wanted to put a bullet in Nicky's brain from the start," Barnes sounded oddly proud. "But Bucky did the whole, get him on side, get him talking shtick that he was always good at and he lasted three more days. Long enough for you to get to him."

"Ah, he was a bit of a nutjob anyway," Nick muttered. "Didn't take much. And it's not like he did much more than kick me around a bit. Nothing compared to getting bagged."

"So you lot torture your recruits," Allie said in realisation. "As training."

"It's not torture, Allie," Nick said sharply. "It's training to resist torture. They don't actually hurt you - they just put you into stress positions and mess with your head a bit."

"Sounds like torture to me," Rhys muttered.

"It just tough training," Barnes said, "and you aren't the same after it."

"Yeah, between that and a bad back from carrying a glass ankle over a three day forced escape and evasion exercise," Nick nudged Barnes. "You're a different man."

"C'mon, mate, those were the days," Barnes said. "Anyway. Thanks for finding out what happened to my boy."

"Be prepared that they might not get murder changes," Nick warned him. "Might all end up as unlawful killing." Barnes sighed heavily. 

"This calls for a drink," he said, looking around the room. "You all up for one?"

* * *

Matt had felt it wasn't right to decline, and that was how he ended up sitting across from Hanson at McKenzie's bar with the rest of the Homicide crew and Barnes. Barnes, it turned out, was a surprisingly good story-teller, and had them in stitches with tales about their training days while Nick sat mostly quietly, adding in the odd wry comment.

"Sounds like you enjoyed being in the army, Nick," Rhys said after a couple of rounds. "You must miss it..." Nick sighed.

"You're not gonna let it rest, are you?" he asked acerbically, and Matt noticed Jen reach over and take his hand. 

"We're just curious," Allie said defensively.

"Partway through my training, my family was in a car accident. My dad died. My mother was left a paraplegic. I was given a compassionate discharge to care for my mother and my younger sister. That's it," he said, as if in a rush to get the words out and move on.

"I forgot you lived with your mum," Duncan said slowly. 

"She's dead now, before you ask," Nick said sharply. "For over five years now."

"How is little Katie?" Barnes asked, clearly trying to pivot off the subject.

"Little Katie's in Townsville, Jack's still based out there," Nick replied with relief. "Did I mention she's had the fourth? A boy?" 

"Finally, you and Jack aren't quite so outnumbered," Barnes said with a laugh. "Although, I suppose Jen cancels him out, now."

"Yeah, we're still down by two," Nick said cheerfully, pulling his phone out.

"It makes up for the fact that the boys outnumber the girls two to one on my side of the family," Jen pointed out, leaning into Nick's shoulder as he showed Barnes a photo of his nephew. "You haven't told Robbie our nephew's name."

"The idiots named him after me," Nick said, clearly trying to hide how pleased he was about it. "Nicholas Adam Whitford."

"Oh please, like you aren't chuffed to bits," Jen called him out.

"I can tell," Barnes replied dryly. "You know, I woulda thought Jack would be more sensible than that..."

Matt tried to hide his surprise at the way they were talking - like it was a done thing. Like this would be it, for the rest of their lives. He hadn't quite...well, he'd never been in a relationship where he'd been able to talk about "my side of the family". Even when Emma's cousin had been murdered, he'd thought of it as "her family", whereas Jen was too busy laughing about Barnes teasing Nick that his nephew - _'their nephew'_ \- looked nothing like him.

And while part of him thought bitterly that it was all very quick, he couldn't help but recognise that Jen looked bright and happy in a way he'd never see her - leaning against Nick's arm casually and laughing with his friends as if she'd known them her whole life. 

It was hard to begrudge her that, even if he still didn't quite get that it was with _Nick bloody Buchanan._


	7. From the Sidelines

Every time Ronnie thought she was starting to become fond of Detective Kingston, Allie went and did something like this.

"How's Nick going?" she forced herself to repeat patiently to the younger woman's look of surprise. She's not like Hamish, a stickler for professionalism and protocol, or even Gideon, cheerfully oblivious to the _damage_ humans can inflict upon each other despite looking at it every day. [Gideon's young; he looks at it, but doesn't _see _it. A coping mechanism, perhaps],

But Ronnie tried to know about the police officers she worked with. She asked after Todd's baby when the uniformed constable's wife had gone into labour four weeks early. She knew that Karen's father had cancer - the sort of cancer that had the young woman worried she wouldn't have enough leave to spend enough time with her father before he passed.

And she had a particularly soft spot for Nick Buchanan. Gentle men were rare, and Nick - for all that he's tall and somewhat imposing and serious - is gentle. He's one of the only ones of the current crop of detectives to treat her as person, not just a resource. [Jennifer and Stanley are the others - Jen often invites her to join them for drinks, while Wolfe always asks after Katie and Sean gravely - somehow remembering their names despite not having seen them since they were little].

Nick had seemed down lately, not that any of his coworkers seemed to notice. Nor was it something Ronnie could have put her finger on - after all, to say the normally stoic Nick was ... more stoic ... wasn't exactly a clear indication of anything. And now, to add to it being kidnapped and beaten and his reputation left in tatters...

Well, Nick could use all the friends he could get.

Kingston, though, simply curled her lip. "Jennifer's the one to ask," she said, a hint of unexpected bite to her words.

"He's Nick," Rhys said hurriedly, seeing Ronnie was taken aback at the disdain in Kingston's tone. "You know. Nothing fazes him."

"Yes, I am sure that being tied up and beaten for three days then nearly shot in the head wouldn't faze him," Ronnie said dryly. 

Allie looked a little ashamed. "He seems fine," she said. "But you should ask Mapplethorpe."

It was towards the end of the week when Jen came in to talk to her about a case, Matt with her. Ronnie gave them a rundown of her findings, then paused.

"Ronnie?" Jen prompted.

"Just wondering how Nick was doing?" Ronnie said carefully. She'd been thinking on it all week - Nick and Jen were friends, obviously, but the _way _Allie had said it...

Matt's face tightened, and he gestured towards Jen expansively. "Jennifer can fill you in."

Jennifer winced. "He's fine," she said curtly.

"Well, can you let him know we miss him down here," Ronnie said, suspicions confirmed. From the way Matt was glowering at the tiled floor, Ronnie didn't pursue what she actually wanted to ask which was _and you're both still assigned to Homicide?_ Jen's expression softened.

"He'll appreciate that," Jen replied more gently. "He's going a bit stir-crazy, not being allowed out on cases yet."

"Is he badly hurt?"

"He got lucky," Jen said grimly. "Few cracked ribs, lots of bruising."

"He's fine," Matt said. "Unlike our victim. We need to get going." Jen winced again, and Ronnie smiled at her sympathetically.

"Well, tell him I asked after him," Ronnie said. 

It wasn't until later that day that she got the chance to speak to Jennifer alone. She came - _sans_ Matt - with the victim's sister in tow. While one of the morgue assistants stood with the grieving sister, Ronnie turned to face Jennifer in the viewing room.

"So, you and Nick?" she asked neutrally.

Colour bloomed along Jennifer's cheekbones. "Yeah," she said defensively, gaze fixed ahead.

"That's great," Ronnie said, genuine in her pleasure. Jen's posture relaxed, and she turned - still keeping half an eye on the sister - with a smile. 

"Yeah?"

Ronnie smiled at the younger woman. "You're a good team," she said simply. "You make each other happy?"

Jen blushed and nodded. "It's been on and off for a while," she said slowly.

"You don't have to explain," Ronnie assured her. "I'm just glad he's okay, and you are happy together."

"Well, thanks," Jen said. "It's been a bit...we are very grateful to have been kept in the same squad and everything but..." she took a breath. "It's taking a while for people to get used to it."

"It's public knowledge then?" Ronnie frowned. She hadn't heard the uniforms (her usual source of gossip) mention anything.

"More like an open secret, I think," Jen replied. "All the detectives in the squad know, as do Matt, and Wolfie and Jarvis and Superintendent Waverley. But outside of that, I don't know. Nick and I aren't trying to be secretive, exactly, but long habits die hard."

"And it's really only your business," Ronnie said briskly. "Just know you both have my support."

"Thanks, Ronnie," Jen said gratefully as the morgue attendant led the weeping sister back to the viewing room.

It didn't last, obviously, but Ronnie was impressed at how long the two detectives managed to avoid becoming the focus of gossip. And when she did eventually hear two of the uniforms hiss to each other about Jen and Nick she made a point of admonishing them for idle gossip.

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, psychologists weren't _actually_ mind-readers.

But given she'd spent the better part of the last three or four months seeing Nick Buchanan for mandatory weekly counselling sessions that lasted for an hour, Claudia felt a little embarrassed that she'd missed it.

She wasn't surprised, exactly, which somehow made it worse - she'd _known _the potential was there, but it took Nick entering the pub for the Homicide Christmas party hand-in-hand with Jennifer for the pieces to fall into place. A few jeers greeted them, and while Nick ducked his head, Jennifer glared at the offenders despite the colour being high in her cheeks.

"Finally, it's not a secret anymore," Ronnie said smugly next to her, and Claudia glanced over in surprise.

"You knew about this?"

"You didn't?" 

Claudia flushed. 

"How does a _pathologist _know and I don't?" she grumbled.

Ronnie smiled. "Pathologists deal with humans as well," she said, with a tone of gentle teasing. 

"Dead humans," Claudia muttered, her surprise and embarrassment making way to _annoyance_.

Both directed towards herself and Nick bloody Buchanan.

_Nick sat down, looking tired rather than wary. "Sergeant," he said politely._

_"I've never stood on ceremony, Nick, and you know that," Claudia said gently. "How are you?"_

_He shrugged a shoulder. "Less bruised," he said wryly._

_"It's been a difficult few weeks. These charges. The death of your girlfriend. Being held hostage."_

_Nick winced a little. "Yeah, it's been...I guess I'm still processing," he said slowly. "But, uh, I - I don't want you to have the wrong idea. Juliette was not a girlfriend. More of a fling, really. I was trying to move on from a serious relationship and she came onto me and ... I feel bad that she got dragged into it but I'm not, like, it's not like losing - I liked her a lot, but I didn't love her."_

She hadn't dug further at the time, and in subsequent sessions, Claudia suspected she'd missed her chance as Nick spoke about Juliette's death - but not about the steps leading to their relationship. (Nor had it been particularly relevant, but she did wonder about his state of mind prior to all of this). 

And the number of times Jennifer's name had come up, well, she'd known they were close. She just hadn't thought to question how close, not with the unwritten laws of the police force hanging over their heads.

Claudia watched the two of them wind their way over to the rest of their crew. She watched them greet the rest of the squad - noting the lack of surprise on their faces - and sighed heavily.

"I do work with them," she grumbled. "You'd think _someone_ would've mentioned it."

"It wouldn't have been personal. I kind of found out by accident and a lucky guess," Ronnie said, obviously in an attempt to be reassuring.

Claudia watched them for a while, before turning away to talk with an obviously already-tipsy Jarvis. She eventually escaped him (making the excuse of needing a drink) and took refuge at the bar.

"Happy holidays, Claudia," a familiar voice said from beside her, and Claudia glanced over to see Jennifer Mapplethorpe.

"And to you, Jen," Claudia said. "Doing anything for the holidays? Or are you working?"

"No, we've got the week over Christmas off," Jen replied, her gaze shifting a little awkwardly. "Going to visit my family for a couple of days, then up to Townsville to visit Nick's sister. Back to work New Year's."

Claudia's eyebrows shot up. "I see," she said, as neutrally as possible. "That sounds like it could be relaxing."

Jen smiled wryly. "My nephews and nieces rise at the crack of dawn," she replied. "Nick's are a bit better - _they _only wake at 0600. So I don't think we're in for a restful holiday. But it'll be fun."

"Ah Jennifer!" Ronnie exclaimed from behind Claudia. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" Jen replied. "Having a good night."

"Yes, but don't dissemble," Ronnie's tone turned stern all of a sudden. "You and Nicholas. Claudia's too polite to ask, evidently."

Jennifer blushed. "Well," she said, a little shyly. "The rumours are getting around. It felt weird to pretend we weren't together, and we thought it might be easier if those who didn't already know found out in a social setting."

"Like me," Claudia said, a little more accusingly than she meant.

Jen frowned. "I thought you did know," she said in honest surprise. 

"Nick's neglected to mention it," Claudia replied dryly. 

"Old habits die hard," she said apologetically, taking a sip of her drink. The ring on her right hand caught the light, and Claudia sighed heavily.

"Like mentioning as we're talking to you about Nick that you're engaged?"

Jen looked sheepish. "Truthfully, we've been engaged for a while. I just wanted to be able to wear my ring."

"Congratulations!" Ronnie said, reaching for her hand. "It's very pretty."

"Thanks," Jen said. "He picked well."

"Congratulations," Claudia said, also admiring the ring. Nick did have good taste. "Have you set a date yet?"

"We're still arguing over what we're going to do," Jen said bluntly. "I'm quite happy to just run off and get married, but Nick wants to do it properly. So it depends on what we decide." Fond exasperation coloured her tone.

Ronnie chuckled. "It's usually the other way around."

"Why _don't _you want a proper wedding?" Claudia asked curiously.

"It's a lot of work," Jen answered. "Nick would be involved, I mean, but truthfully, neither of us care what colour the napkins are. So I don't know how well we'd go organising something."

"That's what wedding planners are for," Ronnie said. 

Jennifer shrugged. "Good point. We just have to find one we like," she paused, eyeing them for a moment. "He's probably going to win this fight. I think he has a point about not sneaking around anymore. But..." she exhaled. "_Weddings_."

"Get a wedding planner," Claudia agreed with Ronnie. "And a good Maid of Honour!"

"Merry Christmas, ladies," Nick's voice broke in to the conversation, before he looked reproachfully at Jennifer. "You abandoned me to Allie and her million and one questions. And _Duncan _and _his_ questions."

"Which was worse?" Jen asked, laughing.

"Duncan," Nick said firmly. "He's planning a wedding for us whether you like it or not."

Claudia and Ronnie laughed.

"There you go, Jen," Ronnie said. "Not quite who I thought you'd pick for a wedding planner but...he does have good taste in wine and suits."

"We just might not be able to afford any of the venues he's plotting," Nick said with a pained expression on his face. 

"Congratulations, Nick," Claudia said, unable to stop herself from adding, "glad I didn't have to worry about your social isolation."

Nick winced. "Sorry. I just..." he looked acutely uncomfortable. "It's odd to talk about. And to start with we hadn't told anyone at all and then by the time we'd told some of the others it felt a bit weird to say oh, by the way, Jen and I are seeing each other."

Claudia sighed. "It's okay," she said. "You know I wouldn't have - and aren't - judging. Congratulations."

A relieved smile crossed his face, and he glanced down at Jen with a warm gaze. "Thanks. I'm pretty stoked."

_[In their next session, Claudia would regret the fact that she'd made a point of mentioning it. Now that the floodgates were seemingly open, Nick fairly ranted about Jennifer and how supportive she was and how great she was for most of their hour's session. It was sweet, but also a little exhausting]._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!


	8. Jarvis

He might have had only a couple of drinks at the end-of-year-party, but that hadn't stopped him from noticing that Mapplethorpe and Buchanan had evidently had enough of being discrete. Despite Bernice's glare, it just made him order an extra two drinks - one when he saw them enter all lovey-dovey and the other when he noticed the sparkler on Mapplethorpe's finger.

Idiots.

He had to hand it to them for good timing: arriving late when everyone was a few drinks in and generally well-inclined. Including himself. So he didn't growl at them, he simply congratulated them with a toothy grin (that made them both gulp nervously) and braced himself.

Terry had been in the business long enough to have seen a few office romances fly past. Most of them were relatively short-lived; truncated by an immediate transfer, or a spousal outburst of jealousy. Only a few seemed to end - or rather, continue - happily.

Looking at Buchanan and Mapplethorpe, it was hard not to think of Anna. [Running into Jack on the Harlan Jeffries case recently hadn't helped].

He'd been young and stupid when he'd met her. They were on the same team. They were about the same age, and one case had led to one drink had led to another and for once, it hadn't ended up in bed. Or rather, hadn't _just_ ended up in bed. He'd fallen for her, but - being young and stupid - had tried to play it cool. 

His old Academy buddy Jack did not play it cool when he'd landed on the Criminal Proceeds Squad - the less active, frequent squad to Armed Robbery. He'd actively chased after Anna.

"Jack asked me out," Anna had said one night, when it had just been the two of them after a case. "You don't mind, right? Like you said, nothing serious."

It had been like a kick in the teeth, but it was nothing like the kick to the 'nads that had followed.

Jack just about fell over himself for Anna, always coming over to lean on her desk and flirt with her - risking the wrath of old Sergeant Mitchell (a right nasty piece of work). By the time they announced their engagement, Terry was more than glad that he'd been promoted up to sergeant himself, transferring over to Homicide and thereby sparing himself the detailed wedding planning that Jack and Anna had conducted in every available minute.

[He'd rostered himself on the night of their wedding, and had spent most of the shift staring morosely at the backlogged files in Homicide].

Terry wasn't sure if he regretted not chasing Anna. Even now, he couldn't quite see himself as a family man - something Jack obviously relished.

He certainly wasn't a wedding man. People seemed to lose their minds over them - essentially, just a big expensive party with (usually) piss-poor alcohol and awkward speeches. And he hated hearing about the planning before.

A small part of him was disappointed that the cutting remarks he'd practiced about exactly how _little_ he cared about their upcoming nuptials were not needed. While Jen turned up wearing the rock to work, there was no wedding planning at work. There was no leaning over desks, furtive phone calls, or any of the nonsense Terry had prepared himself for.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into a month or two, and nothing was mentioned. They were scrupulously careful at work; and Terry was relieved to have never been subjected to PDAs at work or embarrassing pet names.

* * *

In fact, the time Mapplethorpe turned up sick was remarkable because it was the first time that Terry had seen at work (in the nearly seven months since Jennifer had made her ultimatum) that they actually seemed couple-ish. 

Mapplethorpe had been coughing at her desk quietly in the morning. By the time the mid-morning briefing had rolled around, she looked like shit and couldn't stop coughing.

"Why did you come in, Mapplethorpe?" he asked impatiently as another coughing fit punctuated the end of Freeman's briefing.

"Didn't feel quite this bad this morning, sorry sir," she apologised.

"Well, hand over and go home will you?" Terry said. 

"I'm fin-"

"Jennifer," Nick interrupted quietly, meaningfully, and the room went suddenly silent. Jen gave him what was clearly a _look_ and he simply raised an eyebrow.

"I'll catch a cab after the briefing," she said ungraciously after a few minutes.

"I'll drop you," Nick said, looking up at Terry mulishly. "It can be my lunch break."

"You don't need to -"

"I expect you back within the hour," Terry pointed at Buchanan. "You might as well hand over what you need to to him on your way, Mapplethorpe."

"Fine," Jennifer said grumpily. Nick cracked a smile.

"Come on, Typhoid Mary," he said with uncharacteristic affection in his voice. "Let's get you home."

He had braced himself for Buchanan to knock off early, but the younger man (having arrived back at the office within forty minutes) stayed late with the rest of them.

As Terry was heading out - at a relatively civilised 7pm - he took _some_ pleasure in growling at Buchanan to get home and make sure Mapplethorpe hadn't coughed up both her lungs.

[When the next week Buchanan called in sick, while a still-pale Mapplethorpe returned to her desk, Terry grumbled about it to Bernice. Bernice had simply smiled wryly and noted that whatever it was would probably just work its way through the squad anyway. He had to pay her ten bucks when a few days later Freeman also called in sick].

* * *

One morning they'd all come into the briefing room to find that Burns guy from SIS leaning casually against the desks. 

"What do you want?" Mapplethorpe had demanded with an uncharacteristic snap to her tone. Buchanan had simply loomed behind her, glaring at Burns.

Burns, for his sake, had raised his hands slightly, looking more at Buchanan than Mapplethorpe. "I come in peace," he said wryly. "I'm here on behalf of -" he gave a sideways glance at the rest of the team - "the squad in general. We wanted to extend our congratulations on your engagement. We would have congratulated you earlier but I was ... on assignment ... and our colleagues thought you might not appreciate a home visit."

"That almost sounds thoughtful," Buchanan had said, with a heavy sarcasm that Terry couldn't help but smirk at. "Thank you."

Burns winced, but didn't seem surprised. "We also wanted to say," he said steadily. "We'd be happy to have either of you back - although we'd probably have to use you as a handler rather than an operative, Nick, given your face has been splashed all over the paper."

"We will keep that in mind," Jennifer had said quickly. Buchanan glowered, but snapped his mouth shut. At that, Burns visibly bit back a smile.

"Anyway," Burns pushed himself off the desk. "Congratulations. I mean it. And all the best."

"Thanks," Jennifer said, taking his offered hand and shaking it. As Burns turned to Nick, there was a pause before Nick shook his hand.

"See you around," Burns said.

"Yeah," Nick grunted. There was a moment of silence as the other man left, and then Nick turned to Jen, sighed heavily, and asked wryly, "why did that sound like a threat?"

Jennifer laughed. "I'm sure it was deliberate," she said cynically. 

"All right, let's move on from the creepy spooks," Terry said hastily, seeing Kingston open her mouth to ask something. Still, he filed that job offer away in his mind. It was nice to know that Buchanan had options.

* * *

Work trundled along, and Terry was surprised to one day find in his in-tray a simple invitation card. Evidently, wedding planning had progressed farther than he'd thought. But there it was, an invitation to their wedding in six months time. He opened up his computer and looked up the venue; a simple old house that looked to have been converted for wedding use.

A quick phone call to Stanley and Bernice revealed they'd all received invitations.

"The roster's going to be a mess," Terry grumbled, more because he could.

"Well, it's _in_ Melbourne, so there's no travel," Stanley had pointed out, ignoring his tone.

"And it is an evening wedding," Bernice said. "We'll just have some people on call but I see no reason why the whole squad couldn't attend."

"Ugh, it's all they'll be talking about! Chit chat about who's wearing what and no work for the next six months," Terry grumbled.

"Well, better get back to it now then," Bernice said, obvious laughter in her voice. [If she'd been in the room, Terry would've glared at her, but as it was, he simply grunted, and hung up].


	9. Nick

"You're right," Jen said one morning, apropos of nothing.

Nick rather suspected that Wolfie had had a word with Jarvis (who did their roster) about making sure that he and Jen had weekends off together - they usually got two weekends in a month off together. Which meant that they could go shopping at a criminally early time at their local Bunnings for gardening supplies. Jen had plants that needed repotting, and some of the outside ones definitely needed a little top of of fresh soil.

"Hmm?" Nick glanced over as he finished wrestling the bag of potting mix onto the trolley that Jen was pushing.

"About getting married," she said.

"Ah," he could feel a headache coming on. It was too early on a Saturday morning to have this conversation uncaffeinated, and Jen's tone was thoughtful, so he tilted his head. "I think we need coffee."

Jen rolled her eyes as they headed across the Bunnings Garden Centre towards the cafe. She took a table in the corner furthest from the kids' playground while Nick ordered them cheap coffees in cardboard cups. There was no-one else waiting this early on a Saturday, so Nick loitered at the counter trying to work out what he wanted to say while their coffees were made, before taking them back to the table.

He pushed hers over to her and she took a sip, making a face. He did the same - and it tasted as bad as he could've expected.

"Without trying to sound insecure," he said carefully, focussing on her ear. "Are you sure? I don't want to pressure you into -"

"You're not," Jen cut in, and his eyes flicked to hers in surprise. She gave a half-smile, "Nick, you're right. Eloping would feel like we were still sneaking around. We should do it properly - get married _in front of _our family and our friends and our colleagues."

"If you're sure," Nick said quietly. 

Jen grimaced. "I've thought about this," she said firmly. "A lot. I want to marry you. You're right; we should get married openly. And then..."

"Mmm?" Nick prompted.

"I thought maybe I could then go for my sergeants' exams. Leave the squad," her words felt like a bomb, and Nick reeled back.

"Leave the squad?" he repeated dumbly. So what if he was being selfish about it; he loved that they shared a home, but he also loved working with her.

"It's not exactly working for Matt," she pointed out ruefully. She hesitated. "Are you worried about me outranking you?"

"No," it was an easy response. "I just," he shrugged, feeling a little foolish. "I'll miss working with you. And Homicide is your dream -"

Her smile warmed his heart. "I was kind of thinking I would try to be transferred to a squad with better hours," she interrupted. "Maybe try for a kid or two."

Nick looked down, trying to quell the feeling in his throat.

Jen noticed - because of course she did - and he felt her hand reach out and cover his. "Nick?"

"Sorry," he said, looking up with a quick smile. "I just..." he shrugged. "It's just...you're giving me everything I've ever wanted and it's scary."

Jen returned a wobbly smile. "I've thought a lot, this last few months," she said quietly, thumb absently running over his hand. "I ... I want us to have kids, Nick. Or try to, at least. I think I'd regret not trying."

"You know that you're enough for me. Kids are not a -"

"But I want them too," Jen said. "I just... I want that to be between us. I don't like being asked about it, because if we can't have them I don't..."

"I understand." He did; neither of them were exactly young, and having children with their jobs wouldn't be easy, and so if it didn't work out, better that it was private. "I could go part time." The words fell from his mouth, and Jen looked taken aback. "You know, if we have kids. Try to make sure that you don't spend more time than you want on leave."

Jen smiled fondly at him. "I should've married you years ago, Nicholas Buchanan."

* * *

Planning a wedding was every bit as frustrating and time-consuming as he'd been led to believe. 

(What nobody had prepared him for was the fact that it was kind of hilarious as well. At one point, when a very serious young lady from their wedding venue asked them if they'd rather have the vintage chairs or the farmhouse chairs - showing pictures of two nearly identical chairs - he and Jen had made the mistake of glancing at each other and bursting into laughter).

But it was all done now, and as he fumbled with his bow tie for the third time - Jen had forbade him from wearing a normal tie, saying that she wanted him to not just look like he did most days at work - he felt contentedly calm.

"Oh let me," Katie said in exasperation, and Nick sighed but let her do her bow tie.

"I do know how," he said. (Okay, maybe there was a touch of nerves today). His sister simply rolled her eyes at him, adjusting the bow fussily. 

"You feeling okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," Nick said honestly. "Just kind of want to get it over and done with."

His brother-in-law laughed. "Can't believe you found a girl who wanted to elope and yet _you _pushed for the whole big shebang. You know how many blokes would kill to be able to just elope?" Jack said.

Nick laughed ruefully. "Yeah, but I think it was important for us to do this bit openly," he said. He and Jen had been honest with their families about having been together secretly because of their jobs for a while (which had settled Jen's dad's nerves about the seemingly quick engagement). They hadn't told anyone just how _long_ they'd known each other.

"I would never have forgiven you if you'd eloped," Katie said accusingly. 

"Well, we aren't," Nick pointed out, checking his watch. An hour to go.

* * *

He'd known he was going to cry, he'd just sort of hoped that he'd make it slightly longer than seeing Jen walk down towards him, escorted by her beaming parents. Jen simply beamed at him and wiped the couple of traitorous tears off his face when she reached him, to the laughter of those assembled. He at least made it through the vows without being too emotional - Jen, on the other hand, cracked halfway through, and it was his turn to hand her the handkerchief he'd put in his pocket for that very purpose.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," said their celebrant, and Nick and Jen grinned at each other before leaning in to a kiss.

[He'd been amused when she'd nervously suggested they practice their kiss as it would be the first time _actually_ kissing each other in front of their work colleagues, but had been more than happy to indulge that particular suggestion, and had only derailed the practice session twice].

The speeches seemed to go well. Robbie's speech was mostly tame, and he mainly ribbed Nick about taking so long to settle down rather than some of their escapades when they were young and stupid. (Jen already knew all the main stories, but Nick didn't particularly want his new in-laws _or_ his bosses to have some of those details).

Jen's Dad's speech was short and to the point, mostly centred around how delighted the Mapplethorpe family were that _all_ their children were now married off. Nick and Jen kept their speech short as well, thanking everyone for coming and wishing them all a good night.

The rest of the evening was a bit of a blur, mostly centred on his new wife. He'd been the anxious one about the dancing rather than the kissing (Nick was good at many things, but dancing was _not_ one of them, and the thought of having a whole bunch of people watch him awkwardly lead Jen around the floor had made him cringe).

But actually, it went fine, mainly because Jen had grinned at him as she took his hand.

"Enjoying the wedding?" she asked impishly.

"I am," he said. "The dinner was quite nice, despite all the fancy plating rubbish. And I think the speeches didn't go on too long. Are you enjoying it?"

"Mmm," she nodded. "The groom's quite handsome."

"I was too busy checking out the bride," he joked.

"I'd hope so!" Jen retorted. 

By that point, his sister and Jen's side of the family had thankfully joined them on the dance floor. Nick dutifully spun his sister, then Jen's Mum, then Jen's two sisters, around the floor before finally pleading exhaustion and escaping to the bar his Army mates seemed to be propping up. Robbie laughed at the face he made, but kindly made no mention of Nick's two left feet and simply clinked their glasses together.

"The last one to get hitched," Tom McKenzie held his glass up in a sloppy salute, clearly enjoying not being behind the bar for once.

"Hopefully it lasts longer than most of ours," muttered Brad Johnson.

"I reckon they'll make it longer than you, Three Months Johnno," Robbie teased good-naturedly. Johnno winced, but chuckled ruefully.

"Well, your Jen seems to have some brains in her head, despite marrying you," Johnno nudged Nick. "And sensible enough to boot."

"Yep," Nick agreed cheerfully, downing his drink. "I've lucked out, no doubt about it."

It didn't take long until he was pleasantly drunk. At some point, Dunny came over with an uncomfortable looking Matt in his wake. Rhys and Allie and Simon were tearing up the dance floor, while Wolfie, Jarvis and Waverley were huddled in conversation with Jen's parents. Nick figured Matt didn't particularly feel comfortable in either of the two groups.

"Lovely wedding, mate," Duncan said, clapping Nick on the shoulder. Nick beamed.

"The venue's been great," he replied. [Duncan had good - if expensive taste - and they'd booked this venue on his advice]. Nick quickly introduced the two detectives around, before forcing a drink into each of their hands, more for the tense looking Matt's sake than Duncan's. Matt had just started to loosen up when Jen's dad made his way over.

"Nicky," he said, in an urgent hiss. "I came for a refill, introduce me around so I have an excuse not to talk to Kerrie's mum."

Nick laughed. "Bruce, these are some of my old Army buddies. Robbie, Macca, Johnno. You met my brother-in-law, Jack, before. This is Duncan and Matt - they work with me and Jen. Another beer?"

"Please," Bruce breathed a sigh of relief as Nick pressed one into his hand. "Don't tell Kerrie I'm hiding."

"Promise," Nick said solemnly. He'd met Jen's grandmother a handful of times, and she was the most intimidating woman he'd ever met. Jen's dad, on the other hand, was one of the nicest men he'd never met, and it wasn't long until Bruce had them all laughing over absurd tales of Jen and her siblings as kids.

"One, Mum knows you're hiding," Jen's voice interrupted them some time later, "and two, stop telling embarrassing stories, Dad."

"They've not been too bad, Jen," Nick said, unable to keep from beaming at her. She rolled her eyes at him, but wrapped her arm around his waist. "At least for you. Damo doesn't come off as well."

Jen snorted. "Poor Damo," she said insincerely before casually taking his beer off him and taking a sip. Nick mock-glared at her, and signalled the bartender for another beer, which he offered to Jen. "You take that one, I'll finish yours."

"Okay," Nick agreed easily. 

"Welcome to the hell of asking her if she wants to have something, her saying no, and then eating or drinking yours," Bruce grumbled.

"They've done that for years anyway," Duncan said pointedly. Jen laughed.

"I just don't want a full beer," she protested.

It was so nice to be able to stand there, among friends and family, with his arm around his _wife_, and it felt strangely nostalgic.

But then, Nick supposed, Trish and Wesley were kind of part of them.

And this was so much better because they didn't have to concentrate on keeping track of suspects and leads and worrying about being shot in the back of the head.

Her hand squeezed his waist, and Nick glanced down to see her looking at him quizzically.

"Oh, just thinking of some old friends," he said quietly. Understanding flashed across her face, and she lifted her beer. 

"Trish and Wesley?" she said, equally quietly. Nick nodded, and clinked his bottle against hers.


	10. Stanley

"Where do you see yourself in a year's time, Jennifer?" Stanley asked after the younger woman had passed Kingston in the doorway, closing the door behind Allie and taking a seat opposite him.

It was that time of the year; performance reviews. He'd initially disliked this part of his job, but over the years Stanley found that this was where the tone of each person's year was set - for better or worse. [He still thought that young Matt had taken entirely the wrong impression when Stanley had encouraged him to seek balance in his life - instead of taking a year off to go to France, he'd sat the exams].

Jennifer, on the other hand, seemed to have worked out a good balance with Nick. Stanley had watched with trepidation, along with Bernice and Terry, when the couple had returned from their honeymoon. And yet, their discipline with respect to separation of (as Terry put it, Church and State) had held. Oh there were moments where the two weren't strictly professional, but they were few and far between and never exceeded the bounds of propriety to a concerning extent.

And it had been good for both of them. They did less overtime (probably because they left together anyway, and two people did the work far faster than one, even if they weren't working the same case. Stanley figured Terry had seen this as a cost-cutting initiative from the way he'd generally roster them together).

Jennifer looked nervous as she hesitated before answering, "as a sergeant, hopefully."

Huh.

Well, he couldn't say he was exactly surprised. Jennifer had always been driven and Lord knew she deserved to move up.

Still.

"When did you intend on sitting the exam?" Stanley asked.

"August," Jennifer replied. "I started doing some light study already." He nodded absently to himself.

"That sounds like a reasonable timeframe," he said, thoughtfully. Matt was due to take some leave in the next few months during which she could step into his shoes (Stanley firmly believed nothing prepared one for the exam better than doing the job).

"What is your plan when you've passed?" 

"_If_ I pass," Jennifer stressed the first word slightly. "I'd like to request a transfer to another squad." Her smile was wry. "Staying here hasn't exactly worked for Matt."

Stanley winced in acknowledgement. "He's due some leave shortly," he said. "I think it would be good exam preparation for your to step into that role while he's away if that's agreeable to you. As long as you think you and Buchanan can make _that _ work."

"It won't be a problem," Jennifer said with quiet assurance. "Nick's the one who's been trying to push me toward this for a while now."

"It's different if you're acting Sergeant for his squad," Stanley warned.

Jennifer nodded. "That's the other reason to request a transfer," she said. "But for a short period, we'd be fine."

* * *

"That's great," Nick said immediately when Stanley broached the topic of Jen filling in for Matt. "That'll help her for the exam and for the job!"

"It wouldn't bother you?" Stanley pressed. Nick looked momentarily confused then gave a short, barking laugh. 

"Not at all," he assured him. 

Still, he kept a close eye as Jen stepped up, thinking it was bound to strain their relationship. If it did though, the two of them hid it well. 

Stanley couldn't help the warm pride that filled him as he watched Jennifer do a damn good job of being acting sergeant (a pang of guilt threaded through him at the thought of how well she did in comparison to Matt, who had been such a promising young detective but was now proving to be a less than stellar sergeant). Bernice was just as proud - and loud about it to boot. Terry was quieter about it, but Stanley had still heard the other man boasting about Mapplethorpe to an old Armed Robbery friend of his.

Proud as he was of Jennifer, he was almost prouder of Nick.

_"You're allowed your own opinion, you know, Nick," Allie had needled._

_"I have my own opinion," Nick said, quietly but firmly. "And my opinion is that our sarge has listened to what we've presented and sent us down this direction."_

_"Suck up," Duncan had teased._

_"Happy wife, happy life, eh?" Rhys had joined in._

_Nick set down his pen with a sigh. "Got nothing to do with that. She's worked bloody hard to get to this, she's damn good at her job, and I'm not gonna mess this chance up for her. Besides, I happen to agree with her."_

The implied threat had been clear enough for Allie to back off.

[Jennifer's decision had been vindicated thirty-six hours later by a smooth arrest].

* * *

One night, two days before Matt was due back, Jennifer knocked on his office door.

"Jennifer," Stanley greeted. "Thought you had headed off."

"Just tying up loose ends so Matt doesn't have to on Monday," she shrugged. "Um. Can we talk to you, Sarge?"

It was then that Stanley noticed Nick was hovering at his desk, and he suddenly knew what was coming. He nodded, and waited patiently as the two stepped into his office, Nick closing the door behind him.

"I'm pregnant," Jennifer blurted, hand drifting unconsciously to her stomach as Nick's hand floated to her back. "Only eight weeks, it's early days, but..."

"Congratulations," Stanley said with genuine warmth, smiling at Jennifer and then at a clearly delighted Nick. "To both of you."

"I know the timing's not -" Jennifer went to continue, but blinked at his words. "Uh, thank you?"

"It's never a good time to have children," Stanley said kindly. "If you want them, just have them. I would recommend you hold off requesting a transfer. If you sit your exam regardless - you'd be seven months along but that should be doable, I think - then go on maternity leave when you return we can simply second you out while waiting for a sergeant's spot to become available somewhere."

Jennifer blinked, clearly taken aback by the calm plan.

"See, honey," Nick's tone was gentle, the endearment probably unconscious. "Piece of cake." 

"Much easier than the two of you working in the same squad," Stanley agreed dryly. This would actually work quite nicely, he mused. "Easy enough to keep you on desk duty without arousing suspicion - if we partner the two of you together a lot; Nick I assume you don't mind doing all the legwork?" Nick shook his head instantly. "And for the rest, we can just give you more of the coordinating and paperwork role until you're obviously showing, at which point we can just keep you on desk duty."

Jennifer visibly relaxed. "I don't mind doing some field work as long as it's not too dangerous," she said cautiously, hand resting on her still-slim belly. "It's just I don't exactly want to -"

"The baby's the priority," Stanley waved her off, and both detectives looked relieved. "You can do some of the legwork but only where the risk is minimal. And no raids from now on."

"Sir," Jennifer said, hesitating before adding, "we haven't told anyone else, and weren't going to until we're at least twelve weeks."

"My lips are sealed," Stanley assured them. "Now go home, and enjoy your weekend." The two detectives thanked him soberly and left.

* * *

Matt's return was not smooth. 

It wasn't that the other man was incapable; it was just that he had difficulty managing his team. His technical knowledge was excellent - but he struggled to maintain order in a way that Jennifer had instinctually been able to do. [Stanley figured it was because Matt tried to tell them what to do, while Jen simply said what needed to be done and gave them a little more autonomy - something that was necessary in a team with experienced detectives like Buchanan and Freeman, and hard-headed juniors like Kingston - and to a lesser extent Levitt].

While Jennifer and Nick seemed to be trying to help smooth the waters, that only aggravated Matt more.

"I don't need you to _explain_ for me, Buchanan!" Stanley overheard Matt snapping one day after a briefing. Nick folded his arms, and coolly apologised. [And in subsequent briefings, made no attempt to help reel Allie in].

Duncan, meanwhile, seemed to have given up a long time ago.

It came to a head one evening, and Matt stormed into Stanley's office, slapping a piece of paper on the desk.

"Transfer me then," Matt snapped.

"What -?"

"You're clearing grooming Jennifer to be sergeant, she's not put in for a transfer, so let's just get it done with!"

"Sit down, Ryan," Stanley snapped back, a cold feeling crawling up his spine.

It was only ... no, Jennifer would only be just coming onto ten weeks. [Not that it was for him to tell anyway].

"As you know, Jennifer plans to sit her exams later in the year, and we are doing the same for her as we did you," Stanley forced himself to say calmly. "She wanted to remain here until she was sure she'd passed - and was planning to take leave after her exam anyway."

"I saw she and Nick put in for leave," Matt muttered, an odd twist to his mouth, but the anger seemed to drain out of him and he sighed. "But perhaps I should transfer anyway."

"You seemed to be at a good point with the team before you left," Stanley said honestly.

"Yeah, but it's clear they preferred me not being here," he said bitterly. "Rhys said as much to Allie."

Stanley barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "Detectives always disagree with their bosses," he said mildly. "As I'm sure you did. Your dream was to be in Homicide, Matt, but it's up to you."

The other man mulled on this, and they sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I'll think about it," he said finally, and with no small measure of relief Stanley pushed the transfer request back across the desk.

Bernice and Terry were busy looking for nice jobs to line Mapplethorpe up with. Some of those prospects would disappear when her pregnancy became known, and the last thing she needed was for Matt to clomp around looking for a post ahead of her.

* * *

"Pregnant," Terry said gloomily, staring at the bottom of his glass.

"It's not the end of the world, Terry," Bernice said tightly, her own glare at the bottle of whiskey she'd just restoppered belying her words. "How come you didn't tell us, Stanley?"

"She asked me not to," Stanley replied patiently, not for the first time.

"The timing's just terrible," Terry said. "Bloody Buchanan."

A smirk touched Bernice's lips. "I suspect it's not all down to him," she said dryly, and Terry made a face. Bernice sighed, but then clearly steeled herself. "Look, we'll just have to adjust our timeframes. It'll be fine. I suspect I can still get her the position with Drugs."

Stanley couldn't suppress a chuckle. "She's pregnant, not disabled," he pointed out. "It's a good thing."

Terry grumbled unintelligibly while Bernice sighed again, heavily. "Well, if anyone can juggle the two it'll be Jennifer."

* * *

The squad had been predictably delighted by the news of Jennifer's pregnancy, and took a perverse pleasure in teasing them both. Nick and Jen bore it with a studied patience, and when the squad arranged an impromptu baby shower it was clear that this baby would not lack for babysitters.

Shortly after he was born, little Oliver Stanley Buchanan was brought by his beaming parents in to visit the squad. Nick and Jen looked exhausted, but blissfully happy. Stanley, meanwhile, wasn't ashamed to say he shed a few tears on looking at his namesake; a beautifully chubby baby with wispy blonde hair and Nick's eyes. 

Over the next few years there were more than a few changes to the squad. Nick, however, remained, perched on his end of the desk and working dependably and solidly until the end of his shift. Back in the day, Buchanan's refusal to do more than the occasional bit of overtime would've seen him dumped from the squad, but in these slightly-more-enlightened times it simply hampered his progression through the ranks (something that Stanley knew Nick didn't care for).

What it did mean was that he was able to watch little Oliver and, later, his sister Jo grow up into happy little children. Jennifer's career progressed more slowly than if she hadn't paused to marry a man contaminated by scandal and then proceed to have his children, but it progressed to Stanley's quiet pride.

[It was bittersweet to watch the Mapplethorpe-Buchanan family; on the one hand, he was glad that they continued to look so blissfully happy, and on the other it made him reflect more on his failings as a husband and father].

Still, as his own daughters wormed their arms around him at his retirement party while Buchanan, a pained look on his face, collared Jo before she had a chance to get close enough to blow out the candles on the cake, Stanley figured he hadn't done too poorly.


End file.
